


Big Cop II

by SeeThemFlying



Series: Big Cop Series [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Big Cop Sequel, Discussions of Infertility, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Murder, Incredible silliness, Infertility, Modern AU, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2020-12-17 05:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 157,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21048905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeThemFlying/pseuds/SeeThemFlying
Summary: Brienne Tarth and Jaime Lannister are happily living as Casterly's most disgustingly cute police officer married couple, much to the annoyance of all their colleagues. However, when a series of mysterious deaths suggest there is a killer close to home, their relationship is tested in a way it never has been before. Can it survive? Or will the pressures of the job finally get to Jaime and Brienne?As the title suggests, a sequel to "A Big Cop in a Small Town". You don't need to read that first, but it might help!





	1. For Old Times' Sake

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo. AAAAAAHHHHHHH. Big Cop Sequel. I've been planning this for a while, so I hope you enjoy. It is not based on a film, but is entirely my own story, so I hope you like it! If you do, I would love to hear from you in the form of comments or kudos :)
> 
> Now, I'm not being super lazy with the title. It is in homage to Bad Boys II, which Danny from Hot Fuzz repeatedly references as one of his favourite films!

"Sergeant Clegane? Constable Tyrell?" said Brienne into the radio, trying to get through to some of her colleagues. "Can you take this one? Gilly from the wildlife sanctuary phoned. Apparently, they've got some escaped animal problem and police presence is needed. The representative from the RSPCA is already there."

The radio sputtered and crackled for a few moments before, eventually, Brienne got her message through.

"Sorry Chief," came Margaery's voice, "the Constabulary's radio system is up Shit Creek without a paddle. You need to call in someone to fix it. They either don't transmit messages at all or start playing soundscapes from the other cars that won't switch off for love nor money."

"Okay, thanks for the reminder," interjected Brienne tersely, irritated at yet another inconvenience she did not need today, "but what about the wildlife sanctuary?"

There were a few more moments of crackling before Brienne heard Margaery's answer. "Sorry, we're down at _Lannisters _dealing with a shoplifter at the moment. You'll have to send someone else. Over and out."

Brienne sighed. The Casterly Constabulary was a little short-staffed, given that Jon was on holiday, Ilyn had dropped down to part time, and the Robbs were out doing some liaising work with the Lannisport Constabulary. Knowing there was only one more option, Brienne called the other set of officers on patrol.

"Jaime? Pod? Are you there?"

Silence.

She tried again. "Jaime? Pod? Can you hear me?"

The door of her office suddenly swung open and in wandered Jaime, her husband, grinning at her. "Loud and clear, wench." He walked across the room to give her a quick peck on the lips before he perched on the edge of her desk, smiling. "What can I do for you?"

"Where's Pod?"

Jaime grimaced slightly. "The poor boy's gone home. We were on patrol in the High Street, I bought him a _Nobbly-Bobbly, _he ate it all, then opened the car door and vommed on the pavement. That's what I was just coming to tell you. My radio is totally busted, after all."

Brienne rolled her eyes. "We really don't need this today. We are short staffed as it is, and we've just had a call in from Gilly up at the wildlife sanctuary. She's sounding pretty panicked; they need someone now."

"What about Margaery and the Hound?" suggested Jaime.

"They're apparently dealing with a shoplifter at _Lannisters._"

Jaime grinned at her. "Well, it looks like there are only two police officers in the whole Casterly Constabulary currently available for this task."

"Don't you dare suggest you and me," Brienne tutted. "We were barely competent police partners before we got together. It will be a bloody disaster now we are married."

"Come on, it will be for old times’ sake!" laughed Jaime. "And anyway, before, we were easily distracted by our unbearable, overwhelming lust for one another. Now that you can tap this whenever you want it shouldn't be a problem."

"Oh can I?" said Brienne, half-teasingly.

"Yeah," replied Jaime, waggling his eyebrows at her. "Right now if you want."

She shook her head, laughing. "You're so bad."

"That's why you love me," he purred, "that and the fact I am, at heart, a professional. We can deal with whatever issues Gilly has to throw at us."

Part of her really would have liked to go on patrol with Jaime, but she knew it just wasn't possible. "I can't," she sighed.

"Why not?"

"I've got to send an email to Central Office," she groused. "As Ilyn is retiring, they think it's about time we have a new sergeant. I suggested we should just promote Margaery. She's worked here for a number of years now and is an all-round star; it's her time, I keep telling them, but they seem to want to parachute someone in from outside."

Jaime wrinkled his nose. "Why aren't they listening to you?"

Brienne shrugged. "They seem to have got it into their head that I'm a great lover of nepotism; first I made my husband sergeant, now my best friend..."

Jaime smiled at her teasingly. "Just tell them you only promoted me because of how good I am in the sack, but that Margaery is the real deal."

"I did _not _promote you for that reason," insisted Brienne, blushing furiously as she got to her feet.

On the cusp of a laugh, Jaime walked over to her and wrapped his hands around her waist. She tried to pout at him, but he wasn't having any of it. "Why did you promote me then?"

"Because you are a great police officer." He just smiled and pecked her on the cheek.

"Perfect, because you are too. So shall we go to the wildlife sanctuary, my professional police officer wife? Gilly probably needs all the help she can get."

She shot him an annoyed look. "Can you please stop verbally manipulating me into doing shit you want? I found out about your cunning little scheme to get the staff room painted blue, you know."

"Not my fault you find me irresistible," he smirked, raising his eyebrows at her. "And you know, if you _do _come to the wildlife sanctuary with me, I am sure there are ways I can make you glad you did later when we get home."

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him, as his smile grew bigger. "I'll hold you to that."

* * *

Of course, when they were actually back on patrol together, all the old issues once again reared their heads. As was traditional, Jaime started moaning at Brienne about her driving the second they got out of the thirty miles an hour zone.

"Come on, wench, _faster! _This is national speed limit!"

"Jaime," she tutted, "these are winding country roads, I want to be careful."

He rolled his eyes. "But you've lived here for ages, now! You know these roads. And we had a shootout just along here; you definitely broke the speed limit then, so surely you can go a tiny bit faster."

"I don't want to go faster," she huffed. "It's safer for everyone involved."

Jaime just smirked at her. "Oh, is that why you like things slow and sensual. Health and Safety?"

"Yes," she teased, "because with my stamina I don't want to give you a heart attack."

"Thanks for your consideration, wench," he responded, leaning forward, "but surely you know by now _working out _with you is my favourite form of cardiovascular activity."

Brienne pretended to look bored. "Oh, I can think of much more fun ones. I looked it up once; if you type in _fun cardiovascular activities _into _Google _it gives you lots of suggestions actually; skipping, boxing, running..."

Jaime was about to respond, but at that moment, the car radio started making an irritatingly loud screeching sound, before it started playing audio that was clearly unknowingly being broadcast from Margaery and the Hound's car.

"For fuck sake, Tyrell," came the Hound's voice. "Could you please tell that Mycah boy to give Joff some space. He's a highly trained police dog. He can get very anxious around people he doesn't know."

"Why don't you tell the dog to get away from me!" came an unfamiliar voice, who Brienne assumed must be Mycah. "He's fucking growling at me!"

"Joff only growls at people he doesn't like."

In spite of the Hound's defence of his beloved German Shepherd, everyone on the Casterly Constabularly were well aware that Joff was a canine psychopath, so Jaime chuckled at what he was hearing.

"Only the Hound could defend that dog."

"Well," smirked Brienne, "that's because Joff is his soulmate."

"Don't tell Sansa that," replied Jaime. "She'll cry."

"Well that's understandable, because..."

At that moment, the conversation from the other car disappeared, and the radio just started screeching at them, which caused Jaime to cover his ears.

"Jaime!" admonished Brienne, as the sound got louder and louder. "I'm driving! Can you at least be useful and try to turn it off!"

Jaime shook his head. "But I don't want to burst my eardrums."

"I don't want to burst _my _eardrums either, so it would be really helpful if you could TURN IT OFF."

Although Jaime was being a big wuss and refused to uncover his ears for a few minutes, eventually Brienne twisted his arm by telling him she would never have sex with him again unless he did something about it, so then, knowing where his bread was buttered, he valiantly tried to fix the issue. It was no good, however, as by the time they arrived at the wildlife sanctuary, the car radio was playing white noise so loudly that Brienne could still hear it even once she had got out of the car. Consequently, Jaime decided to stay behind to see what he could about it.

"Since when were you an electrician?" Brienne asked.

"Since forever. Don't you remember the time I fixed your pink vibrator?"

"The time you changed the battery, you mean?"

"Yeah," he grinned. "I'm totally qualified."

Giving him an affectionate eyeroll, Brienne turned to head towards the wildlife sanctuary. "I'll see you in there in a minute. I'll liaise with Gilly and this RSPCA guy. Hopefully, we just need to be here to witness whatever disaster they got themselves into."

"Or it could be another escaped swan," said Jaime in mock horror, opening his mouth and putting his hand on his cheek, Kevin from _Home Alone _style.

"In which case I'll call you," Brienne smiled as she began to walk up towards the Wildlife Centre. "Sergeant Swan Whisperer".

Jaime gave Brienne one more crooked grin before turning around and leaning into the car, attempting to fix the radio. Brienne gave her husband's perfectly formed arse one more affectionate glance and then set off in the direction of the wildlife centre, which stood a little way further up the hill. When she entered the building, Gilly was waiting inside, hiding behind the front desk. The second she laid eyes on Brienne; she broke into a relieved smile.

"Oh, Inspector Lannister-Tarth, it's so good to see you! We have a rather major problem."

"What is it?" asked Brienne, getting out her notebook.

Feeling that she was finally in safe hands, Gilly snuck out from behind the desk. "The Wildlife Centre sometimes operates as an overnight holding area for animal transportation. Last night, we received a koala bear that is being delivered to a rescue centre in Devon tomorrow, and we put it in the quarantine zone. However, I came back to my lunchbreak to find that he has escaped and is now hiding out in the gift shop in a nest made of travel guides about South West England and cuddly monkeys. He has also eaten four packets on ginger biscuits, which can't be good for his health."

"Right," said Brienne, jotting all that down, thinking it was one of the weirdest things she had ever written in her police notebook. "I thought you said on the phone that you had someone from the RSPCA here to assist? In situations like this, it is _them _that the police will trust for recapture. We are only here to observe and provide support."

Gilly looked a little unhappy about that. "The RSPCA guy is here, but to be honest... he's a bit of a twat. He made a sexist joke the first second he saw me, and then told me he didn't have a big enough net to catch a koala. He's just gone off to the gents now."

For the first time all day, Brienne felt slightly excited. This useless, sexist RSPCA guy seemed just the time of bloke she liked telling what for. "Good to know. Don't worry Gilly, I'll keep an eye on him and make sure that..."

Whatever Brienne was going to say, she immediately forgot it when a familiar voice came floating across the room. "Well, well, well, if it isn't _Brienne the Beauty!" _Snapping her head up, a horrible sinking feeling overcame Brienne when she saw who was sauntering out of the men's toilets.

It was Red Ron Connington.

Brienne had been sixteen when he had taken her virginity, before he publicly humiliated her by dumping her at prom and sending nudes all over the school. His actions had given Brienne a complex about the way she looked for years, and years, _and years, _so much so that when she first got with Jaime, she had struggled to believe that it all wasn't some big joke. In the fourteen years since she had last seen him, Connington had grown a little tubby, but he was still unmistakeable; he had the same crop of bright red hair, the same piggy eyes, and the same unlimited hubris. For all her years of police training, therapy, and general efforts to build her confidence, under his gaze, Brienne was suddenly a nervous sixteen-year-old again. It made her feel sick to her stomach.

Sensing the tension, Gilly stepped between them, set to make a formal introduction. "Officer Connington, this is Chief Inspector Brienne Lannister-Tarth of the Casterly Constabulary. She is here to give you technical support in catching the koala."

His eyes wide, Connington laughed. "She gave me different type of _support _back in the day, Milly."

"It's Gilly."

"Whatever," said Connington, not taking his eyes off Brienne. "And why are you going by the name _Lannister-Tarth?_"

"I'm married," replied Brienne bluntly, not wanting to give Connington even the tiniest insight into her life.

Connington gaped at her, "married? What poor bugger married you?"

At that precise moment, that poor bugger decided to come marching into the wildlife centre, looking his usual half-god self. Brienne momentarily considered rubbing her husband's supreme sexiness in Connington's face, before telling herself to rise above it.

"I've managed to turn the radio off, wench," said Jaime. "I don't know what I did, but it seemed to have worked. Oh, who is this?"

When Jaime drew level with Ron Connington, Brienne felt positively sick. If Jaime worked out this was _the _Ron Connington, the Ron Connington who had almost irreparably crushed his wife's self-esteem, Brienne feared she would spend the next twenty-five years visiting Jaime in a high security prison because he had beaten Connington to death with his prosthetic hand.

Gilly tried to begin the introductions, but Brienne cut across him. "Jaime, this is Ron. Ron, Jaime."

"Are you the RSPCA guy?" asked Jaime, seemingly not noticing the tension.

"Yeah," replied Ron. "What of it?"

"Oh," interrupted Brienne, not wanting Jaime and Ron to have a conversation that lasted more than four seconds. "I'm sure Jaime was just interested in hearing your plan for how we are going to recapture this koala."

Connington sniggered. "I don't have a big enough net. _You _can try and catch him if you want, but I don't get paid enough for this shit."

At that statement, the competitive part of Brienne's brain decided to go joyriding with her body. Her sixteen year old self would be totally vindicated if she succeeded in catching a koala where Ron failed. Snatching his net and his tranquiliser gun off him, Brienne said, "fine. If you aren't capable, I'll do it. Gilly, take me to this koala."

"But I thought that you said you were only here for technical support?" Gilly said.

Seeing the confused look on Gilly's face, Brienne thought about backing out of this stupid plan, but then she saw that Ron was still smirking at her, so she announced, "well, if Connington over here can't do it, _I will."_

It took a second for her to realise what she had said, because then she heard Jaime stammering, "Connington?"

Not wanting to get into all that right now, she turned to Gilly. "Come on. Where's the koala? I feel the need to fight a bear."

* * *

Five minutes later, Brienne was standing at the bottom of the stairs that lead down into the gift shop. The very tubby koala bear was, as Gilly had said, sitting on top of a pile of travel guides on South West England, munching on a pack of ginger biscuits. Gilly, Jaime, and Connington were all waiting at the top of the stairs with bated breath.

"How do I use this gun, Connington?" asked Brienne, trying to work out how exactly to fire.

Connington scoffed at her. "I thought you said you were a policewoman?"

"Police _officer,_" corrected Jaime. "And you can shut your fucking mouth. She's the best police officer in the world."

"That's a bit much. This is _Brienne the Beauty _we are talking about."

"Don't you call her that," spat Jaime. Brienne could sense that he was trying very hard to keep his temper, probably on her behalf. It was times like this that she really loved him the most.

"Can everybody please calm down?" asked Gilly. "Brienne has to catch a koala!"

While the others had been twittering on and on about her status as the world's best policewoman, Brienne had been getting to grips with the tranquiliser gun. Once she thought she had the hang of it, she started slowly edging towards the koala, who was watching her with a wary expression.

"What's his name?" she asked.

"Gary," replied Gilly.

"_Gary,_" snorted Jaime, "who calls a koala Gary?"

"It doesn't matter who named him," insisted Brienne. "I just need to know his name."

"Why?"

Brienne approached the koala, her arms outstretched. She was determined to make his formal acquaintance. "Hey Gary, how are you doing? Enjoying your biscuits?"

As Gary the koala could not understand English, he just stared at her.

"Wench, you do realise you are insane, don't you?"

"I'm just lulling him into a false sense of security," she said, taking a few steps forward, "before I STRIKE!"

At that, she lifted the tranquiliser gun and aimed it straight at Gary the koala. However, Gary had clearly been round the block a couple of times, and ducked, meaning the tranquiliser dart only succeeded in putting to sleep a book on the Cotswolds. Unfortunately, at her failed attack on him, Gary the koala treated it as a sign of military engagement, and the enraged marsupial lifted his head and started making a sound that was halfway between a burp and a death metal scream. Apparently, both Connington and Gilly thought this was fucking terrifying, as they both made a mad dash for the door.

"Hey!" shouted Jaime at Connington, "you can't leave her in there! You're a qualified RSPCA officer!"

Connington shook his head. "If you want her! Go and get her!" he yelled, before slamming the door to the gift shop behind him.

So Jaime did. As Brienne attempted to back away from the angry koala, who was now doing a slow motion impression of King Kong, she bumped into Jaime, who had just vaulted over the bannister into the gift shop. When he got close to her, Jaimegrabbed the net from her hands. "What are you doing?" she asked, slightly insulted.

"Coming to save you!"

"I don't need saving from a koala bear!" she insisted, trying to take the net back from him. "I'm going to do my job, so get behind me!"

"No, you get behind me! Haven't you heard about what happened to _One Direction _when they went to Australia?"

"No," replied Brienne over the sound of a roaring koala. "What?"

"They went on a tour of the outback and ended up getting pissed on by a koala. Most koalas are infected with chlamydia, so they all had to go to an STD clinic when they got home. The _Directioners _lost their shit."

Brienne stopped wrestling with him for the net. "How do you know that?"

Jaime shrugged. "I read _Heat _magazine."

"Well maybe you shouldn't."

"Look wench," said Jaime, "I'm just trying to stop you getting pissed on by a koala. I'm doing you a favour, so get behind me!"

Brienne gave him a shove. "What good will it do for me to get behind you? If this turns out to be a real thing and not some stupid fact you've made up and _you _get pissed on by the koala, how is that going to help me? When exactly was the last time we had protected sex? We've been trying for a baby for six months!"

Jaime stopped struggling at that. "Good point well made."

"Thank you."

As Jaime and Brienne had both spent so long bickering, Gary the koala had clearly gotten bored, and returned to sitting on his pile of books eating his ginger biscuits. Jaime did not waste his chance. Bringing the net down quickly, Jaime managed to loop it over Gary's head and twist it to keep him trapped. Gary let out another burp scream before Brienne lifted up the tranquiliser gun.

"Sorry, mate, it's for your own good!"

Gilly and Connington crept back into the room just after they heard the tranquiliser gun go off for the second time. "Have you caught him?" asked Gilly tentatively.

Removing the net from the unconscious Gary, Jaime scooped the koala into his jacket in order to carry him back across the room. "Yeah, we got him."

"Oh good," sighed Gilly, "I was worried we would have to call the people from the Devon sanctuary."

Connington looked a little irritated. "Well, I could have done it, if I wanted to."

"Sure you could," replied Jaime sarcastically, depositing Gary into Connington's outstretched arms.

"I could have," said Connington, more firmly. "If we live in a world where Brienne the Beauty is married, I can catch a fucking koala." Brienne felt Jaime going a little tense beside her, so caught his wrist with her hand. Connington didn't seem to notice, however, as he just kept talking. "Actually, has anyone really _seen _this husband of hers? I bet he's totally fictitious."

"I bet you he's not," growled Jaime.

"Why? Have you met him?"

"Yeah," said Jaime bluntly. "He's me."

Connington's eyes went big and wide as he looked between Jaime and Brienne, clearly not believing that it could possibly be true. "_You _are married to _Brienne?"_

"Yep," said Jaime, putting an arm round her and giving her a squeeze, "I am. So if you ever mess with my wife again, you'll have me to answer to." Even though Brienne felt she did not need a protector, she couldn't help but go all gooey inside when Jaime decided to play knight in shining armour.

"Oh, don't worry. I won't," spat Connington. "In fact, I feel sorry for you. I wouldn't want to go anywhere near her."

Brienne thought that Jaime would get angry, but instead he just fixed Connington with a serene smile. "Oh, not as sorry as I feel for you."

Connington narrowed his eyes at him. "Why's that?"

"Because I'm currently not the one holding a chlamydia-ridden marsupial with my bare hands." 

* * *

When they got back to the police car, Brienne was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. "Oh, Jaime, I love you so goddamn much."

"Love you too, wench," replied Jaime, giggling, "but what is this sudden outburst for?"

"Ron's face, his _fucking face _when you told him that koala had chlamydia. It was too much! Too much! It was the perfect revenge." Still laughing, she turned the car on and began to drive down the road, and for the first time in ages, Jaime looked a little terrified.

"Watch it! These are windy country lanes! Don't laugh and drive!"

"But I _know _these roads," teased Brienne, echoing Jaime's complaints from earlier, "we've had a shootout down here. I could drive down here blindfolded."

"Please don't try it," begged Jaime.

She grinned at him. "I won't. It's you that likes to be blindfolded after all."

He blushed so sweetly at that statement, that Brienne made her choice. Driving down an empty sideroad, she parked up the car before shooting a quick look out the window. Once she had deduced there was no one there, she pounced on her rather surprised looking husband, who let out a little groan of satisfaction when their lips touched.

"Wench," he murmured as their lips smushed together.

"Mmmmm?"

"What you doing?"

Breaking the kiss, she looked him straight in the eye before saying, "showing you that you are the best husband in the entire world. You've been wanting to fuck in the car for _ages, _haven't you?"

Looking suddenly mischievous, he said, "well, yeah."

"So let's fuck."

Not wasting another moment, Brienne undid her seatbelt and climbed across to straddle him. Jaime's eyes were bright with desire. "Fuck yes," he murmured as Brienne reached down to undo his flies. It only took a couple of strokes until she found him hard and wanting in her hand.

"Fuck, you are so _big," _she murmured, desiring nothing more than to turn him on. "I just cannot get enough of you."

Although his pupils became blown and he began panting heavily as she continued to stroke him, Jaime was not yet totally lost to his pleasure. Smiling at her, he managed to rasp, "you are the best police officer in the country. It's only right that you are allowed to handle a serious weapon."

Laughing, she leaned in to kiss him, and he responded quite ferocious by sticking his tongue down her throat. Brienne met him stroke for stroke, and soon she was panting heavily too, because Jaime undid her flies and started fingering her. "So fucking good," purred Jaime. "Can we angle it so I can get inside you?"

Wearing her work trousers and her bullet proof vest, Brienne thought that was unlikely, so she said, "no. It's too difficult. We'll just have to get each other off with our hands."

"Good enough for me," groaned Jaime, "I'm nearly there anyway. I love it when you jump me."

Brienne made her voice all breathy as she said, "I know, my love. You're mine, aren't you?"

"Yes... all yours," he sighed, moving his fingers faster.

Brienne upped the pace too as she continued to whisper dirty things in his ear. Eventually, she reaffirmed, "you are all mine. To do what I want with." It was that statement that pushed him over the edge, and Jaime rolled his head back, gasping, as she ran her fist a few more times up and down his shaft.

"You are so _good,_" he moaned as she came, "so, so amazing. I'm fucking yours."

However, Brienne was not done. Bracing herself on his shoulders, she began to grind down on his fingers. "Then make me come, Jaime. Make me come." Jaime knew her so well that it did not take him long at all to find the right points that made her writhe, and soon she was slumped against his chest, panting heavily at the exertion, stars in her eyes.

After a few minutes of just holding each other, Jaime had finally recovered enough to speak. "Well, that's one thing off my bucket list."

"Nah, it only half counts," replied Brienne breathlessly. "I'll wear a skirt next time, so we can do it properly."

* * *

When Brienne returned to the staff room with Jaime, she found Margaery, the Hound, Joff, and the Robbs sitting inside. They all looked a bit pale, and none of them were looking at each other. Jaime noticed it first, because he gave Joff a quick pat on the head before asking the Hound, "what's the matter with everyone? Why are you all so quiet?"

The four of them all glanced at each other, daring someone to speak. Eventually, Robb Arryn said, "it's the radios in the car. Margaery and the Hound came to pick Robb and I up from the Lannisport, and the radio kept... kept... playing stuff."

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't worry. I'll go and call the electrician now."

Still a little mystified by his colleagues' reaction, Jaime said, "to be honest, you all seem to have overreacted to a couple of broken radios."

"It wasn't the radios," grumbled the Hound. "It was what came out of the radios."

"It's just been white noise, hasn't it?" interjected Brienne. "That's pretty much what I've been hearing all day."

The Hound let out a gruff laugh. "Unfortunately, our radio decided to play it in full surround sound."

"Play what?" asked Jaime. "White noise?"

Margaery let out a sigh before holding up her hands. "No. I don't know why, but there was obviously something wrong with the radio in your car too, because it played us a soundscape. Okay? We heard it all."

Brienne was still confused. "All what?"

It was Robb Stark that eventually snapped. "Let's just say we all really didn't need to know how big you think your husband is, Chief."

With dawning horror, Brienne finally realised what all their colleagues must have heard; her fucking terrible attempt at dirty talk. As Jaime began to splutter with laughter, Brienne went bright red.

_Why on earth is he finding this so funny? _she thought desperately.

Trying to appear composed and poised, Brienne said, "I am sorry for everyone who had to hear that. I am aware it was deeply unprofessional, and I..."

"Calm down wench," smirked Jaime. "It's not like everybody didn't know already."

"Know what?" she asked, going redder and redder by the second.

Dropping his voice slightly, he said, "that I'm _big._"

As her colleagues laughed, Brienne lost her temper. "You are so immature," she snapped.

"No, I'm not," smiled Jaime, clearly enjoying that he was making her squirm. "I'm just pointing out that it is public knowledge."

"How the hell is you having a big dick public knowledge?" asked Brienne, irritated. "Have you been showing it to everyone without my noticing?"

Jaime looked mildly horrified. "Oh no, you know my dick is entirely for your pleasure alone. It's just that I exude _Big Dick Energy_, so everyone is aware."

Brienne closed her eyes, trying to pretend this whole situation wasn't happening and that her husband had the ability to be something other than supremely arrogant for more than five seconds. "Jaime, you do not exude _Big Dick Energy, _whatever that is."

"He kinda does though," interjected Margaery, which just made Jaime smile.

"Thanks Margaery," he replied, giving her a high five as he stood up. "Now. Does anyone want a cup of tea? I'm parched."

"Jaime!" squawked Brienne. "You are not taking this very seriously!"

"No, I'm not," conceded Jaime. "But that's only because we've been involved in so many more embarrassing sexual antics than everyone hearing a crackly audio of you getting me off. Surely it's old news by now." There was a murmur of agreement from their colleagues at Jaime's acknowledgement of the numerous previous sexual antics, which made Brienne want to burrow under the ground and hide in a big hole for the rest of her life.

"I mean, there was that conversation everyone overheard when you first got together," suggested Margaery, "where Jaime outlined your favourite _activities."_

"And that time when you both disappeared at the Lannisport Police Gala and Ilyn found you fucking behind that rose bush," said Robb Arryn.

"Or that time when..."

"Okay, okay," said Brienne putting her hands up. "I get it. Jaime and I are very embarrassing."

"It's good you've finally acknowledged that," muttered the Hound.

Before it could all transpire into a huge conversation discussing how publicly Brienne and her husband liked to demonstrate how acutely, disgustingly in love they were, Jaime pointed round at all their colleagues. "So, tea?"

After they had all had a cuppa, Brienne had to concede that all the officers in the room looked like they needed significant therapy for PTSD after the afternoon's events, so she decided to send everyone home ten minutes early. She tried to pretend it was her being magnanimous, but really, she was just so embarrassed she just wanted to go home and die.

"Calm down, my love," said Jaime affectionately when it was just the two of them. "It doesn't change anyone's perception of you."

"Yes it does," Brienne protested. "They all just heard that... that..."

"Yeah, well," he said, wrapping his arms around her, "they already know you are absolutely gaga for me, so, don't worry. It doesn't change a thing."

"I'm not absolutely gaga for you," she said stubbornly.

He pouted at her at that statement, in the ridiculously cute way he knew made her melt. "No? Is my wench trying to tell me she doesn't love me?"

Her resolve to be cross with him dissolved instantly. "Of course I love you, you silly man."

"Love you too," he said, pecking her on the cheek. "Now come on, we should go home. I'm starving, and I seem to recall you promised me a takeaway tonight."

"Yes, I believe I did," she smiled.

"And then, I suppose I could give you the particular strain of chlamydia I caught off the koala."

"Jaime, that is neither romantic nor funny," insisted Brienne.

"No?" he teased.

"No."

"Alright then," he said, taking her hand. "I'll take you home, we can have our takeaway, and then we can have a cuddle in front of the TV. How does that sound?"

Jaime always knew how to win her over in the end.

"Perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnddd I hope you enjoy that! It is great to be back in Big Cop Land with that rather silly introduction (which was entirely motivated my desire to have Brienne fight a bear). We will definitely get into the meat of the story next time. As ever, I love to hear from you in the form of comments or kudos!
> 
> I should also mention I have already written a short prologue for this story. You can find it as Chapter Twelve of my "Many Flavours of Ice Cream" story collection (entitled "First Kiss"). It may seem a bit random, but all will become clear...
> 
> Next time... Jaime and Brienne go to the fertility clinic...


	2. Pink Toothbrush, Blue Toothbrush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Jaime go to the fertility clinic...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh! Thank you for coming back! I am so happy people are glad we are once again back in Big Cop world, so I hope this chapter does not disappoint! I love to hear how I am doing, so please consider leaving comments and kudos.
> 
> In this chapter, there is discussion of fertility and infertility. You have been warned.

In the weeks after the radio car sex incident, Brienne threw herself more firmly into her role as Chief Inspector in order to prove to herself as much as the rest of her team that she was still a confident and self-assured professional.

She went to the opening of a new branch of the Women's Institute near Storm's End and cut the ribbon, she did an interview for the _Casterly Citizen _on community relations with the local Police Service, and gave her annual presentation on careers in the Police Service for Modern Women in the local girls school. A little reluctantly, Brienne also caved to Central Office's desire to parachute in a new sergeant from outside the district. Even though she still ardently believed that Margaery was the best person for the job, Brienne did not want to be known for nepotism as well incautious car sex, so had followed Central Office's suggestion. Consequently, Brienne found herself organising the personnel transfer much earlier than she had previously expected, given that Ilyn still had a couple of months to go before his retirement.

_Dear Chief Inspector Lannister-Tarth,_

_I will send over the police record of your new colleague - which I must say, is exemplary - in a few days, but before I do, she does have a question. You don't happen to be related to the Lannisters of Casterly Rock, do you?_

_Best wishes,_

_Chief Inspector Hizdahr zo Loraq_

_West Midlands Police_

Sitting at her computer in her office, Brienne typed out a quick reply.

_Dear Chief Inspector Loraq,_

_I look forward to meeting my new colleague in the coming weeks. In answer to her question - sort of! I am married to one!_

_Best wishes,_

_Chief Inspector Brienne Lannister-Tarth_

_Casterly Constabulary _

Once the more menial tasks were done for the day, Brienne shut down her computer and headed off to the church hall. As usual, most of her colleagues were on patrol, so she left Jon in charge of the station and went to do what was perhaps one of her most unexpected duties since becoming Chief Inspector. The St Alysanne Roof Committee (or SARC) was set up because it turned out that murdering someone with a bit of the church spire and then trying to claim for repairs on the insurance was not the best way to go about paying for the upkeep of a culturally significant fourteenth century hammerbeam roof from the reign of Richard II. The new vicar, Reverend Meribald, had thought it would be quite nice to get the community involved in preserving local heritage, so had appealed for volunteers for a committee that could think about how to best raise funds.

Brienne was always a sucker for that sort of thing and, as she was Chief Inspector, Reverend Meribald had been more than happy that she offered her help. Consequently, at the end of her workday, she walked from the station to the Church Hall. Jaime texted her when she was halfway there.

_Jaime: _Wench, the appointment is at six, so you'll have to sneak out your meeting early. I'll come pick you up x

_Brienne: _Ok

_Jaime: _We should also think about what we want for dinner later x

Brienne did not really want to think about dinner. She was so nervous about the appointment at the fertility clinic in Lannisport that she felt she would not be able to eat for the next year. Therefore, she decided to focus on the SARC meeting, and ignored Jaime's last message.

When she arrived, most of the committee were already there. Reverend Meribald was discussing period carving still visible at St Alysanne's with Jorah Mormont, owner of Casterly's most prestigious biscuit shop and the President of the Committee. Samwell Tarly, a local enthusiast in all things medieval, was talking to Taena Merryweather about feudalism. When Brienne had first heard that Jaime's ex-girlfriend was on the committee, she had scoffed - Taena had always seemed to be the type who preferred Gucci handbags to Gothic architecture - but then she had discovered that Taena's husband, Orton, was running for Mayor of Lannisport, and reasoned that Taena was only involved so it looked like she did things for the community.

There was also another not quite friendly face. Senelle Jones had previously worked as Cersei Lannister's PA and, after the whole murderous cult thing, had been banged up as an accessory. However, after she had left prison, it had seemed that Senelle wanted to redeem herself, so at Reverend Meribald's call, she had applied for a place on the committee. To Brienne's surprise - given that Margaery had once hit Senelle with a bit yellow sign - she gave Brienne a nod of welcome as she came through the door. Brienne also got a smile from Syrio Forel, her aerobics instructor, who sometimes used the church hall for his classes so had a vested interest in the whole project. She didn't get any response from the last member of the committee; Aurane Waters was a businessman who had newly arrived in Casterly in the last few weeks. Brienne knew next to nothing about him.

"Ah, Chief Inspector Lannister-Tarth," smiled the Reverend when he saw her. "You are here."

"Yes. Sorry I am a little late, I had to do some paperwork back at the station."

"Oh it's fine," he said, "we are just waiting for our newest member of the committee to arrive. We won't start the meeting until he gets here."

Taking that as leave to go and eye up the snacks, Brienne crossed the room to the serving hatch, where Pia was waiting armed with a kettle. She smiled when Brienne approached.

"Hey Brienne, tea or coffee?"

"Oh, tea for me please," smiled Brienne, as Pia poured her a cup then went to get the milk. "Have you seen Pod recently?"

"Yeah," replied Pia, going a little red. "We went to the cinema last night. We saw _Zombie Horror Hordes._"

"Any good?"

"It's an old film, but a bit scary," replied Pia. "Do you want a biscuit?"

"Nah, I'm alright," said Brienne, because of that whole never eating again thing. "We'll chat later, yeah? I think the meeting is about to start."

"Okay!"

Once she had finished speaking to Pia, Brienne went back to sit at the table set out for the committee meeting. She was glad she was on better terms with Pia now; their relationship had previously been a little tense, because Pia had gone out with Jaime while Brienne was unknowingly nursing a super-mega crush on him. Things had worked out, however, as now Pod and Pia were apparently an item.

Brienne was musing on that happy turn of events, when Reverend Meribald's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Ah! You've arrived!" Turning her head to look at who had just come through the door, Brienne felt her stomach sink.

It was bloody Ron Connington.

"Everyone," beamed Reverend Meribald, "I would like to introduce the newest member of our committee. Ron has recently moved to Casterly and works for the RSPCA. I thought he would be a really good person to have on our team because of the rare bats who live in the church spire. We can't make any significant modification without their say-so, so Ron will be here in an advisory position." Connington gave a jaunty grin to everyone sat around the table, before saluting Brienne mockingly. She considered giving him the middle finger, but then remembered she was only here because she was trying to look professional.

Once Connington had sat down at the table, Jorah cleared his throat out and got the meeting's agenda out. "Item One. Now, although we have been very successful in fund raising the last couple of months - we have £76.20 out of the £300,000 we are hoping to raise - the Reverend and I think that stronger committee organisation will allow a more effective implementation of our goals."

"What does that mean?" asked Syrio.

"It means," said Jorah, "that we think it would be wise to appoint people in the roles of Vice-President, Treasurer, Secretary, and Publicity, so we all have clearly delineated roles."

"Which one requires the least work?" asked Taena as she filed her nails.

"Probably Publicity," concluded Jorah.

"I'll do that then."

After a little bit of discussion, it was decided that while Connington and Reverend Meribald would have advisory roles (and Pia would only do the catering), while Senelle would be Vice-President, Samwell Tarly the Secretary, and Syrio would join Taena on Publicity. That only left Brienne and Aurane to fight it out for Treasurer.

"I'm not sure I'm that qualified to work with numbers," said Brienne uneasily. "Maybe I would be better off in a role that required liaising with the local community."

Aurane smiled at her, and it was a pretty, flashy smile that would make a lesser woman tremble. "Don't worry. I'm pretty good with facts and figures. As long as you are there to sign on the dotted line, I am very willing to help you. We can share the role if you want."

Brienne gave him a grateful nod. "Thank you. I would appreciate that."

After the discussion about everyone's respective roles had finished, Jorah moved the conversation on to discussing Orton Merryweather. It seemed to potential mayoral candidate was suggesting that he would donate a large sum of money in exchange for a photo opportunity with Reverend Meribald, in order to show how involved he was with the Casterly community. The pros and cons of such a situation were just being weighed up when the door of the church hall opened. It was Jaime.

"Sorry everyone," he said, peeking his head round the door. "But does anyone mind if I steal my wife away? We've got an appointment."

Brienne's stomach twisted itself into knots as he smiled at her.

"Of course not," said Reverend Meribald, "we are nearly finished anyway."

"Great," replied Jaime cheerfully. In contrast to her husband's easy happiness, Brienne felt increasingly worried. Seemingly noticing, Jaime stretched out his hand towards her. "Come on then, we don't want to be late."

Not quite looking at him, Brienne got to her feet and gave a nod of farewell to the rest of the committee, before crossing the room to meet him. Once she stepped outside, he instantly took her hand.

"Everything alright, wench?"

Brienne gave him a tight smile. "Yes, fine."

"Are you sure? You look a little nervous."

"What is there to be nervous about, other than the fact Doctor Marwyn is going to tell us whether it is possible for us to have children or not?"

Jaime fixed her with an admonishing look. "Don't worry about it. We don't know anything yet."

"Yeah, but Doctor Marwyn does," she replied stiffly. "We did all the tests a month ago. He has our future in the palm of his hand."

Jaime laughed. "You have a real gift for making everything sound so dire."

"And you have a real gift for making everything sound so simple."

* * *

On the car journey to Lannisport, Jaime kept talking and talking and talking, in a way he clearly hoped would be comforting and would distract Brienne from her residual worry. "Where do you think we should go on holiday this year? I'm feeling somewhere with sun, sea, and sex."

"I don't know," she mumbled, looking out the window. "I don't mind."

As Jaime started going through a big list of options - Zante, Ibiza, Mykonos - Brienne gazed into the distance, trying to remain calm. The only way to do that was to not look at him, because otherwise she just felt immensely guilty. The pair of them had decided to go to Doctor Marwyn when, after several months of trying, they had had no luck in getting pregnant. To her immense horror, after they had done the tests a month previously, Brienne had found herself wishing it was Jaime who had the problem. She felt terrible about it, but at least if Jaime was firing blanks, she would be able to move on.

_Jaime is enough, _Brienne thought, _I wouldn't want children with anyone but him, so if he can't get me pregnant... that's fine. But if I am the problem? I would never be able to forgive myself. How could I, when I would be preventing this wonderful man from being a father?_

"... oooh, I think this is it, wench," said Jaime. "I think we are here."

Pulling into the car park, Jaime made quick work of reversing into a tight space before coming around the car and holding open the door for her, so she could squeeze into the small gap between the cars. Once she was out, he held out his arm for her, smiling.

"Come on my wench, let's go face our fate."

Doctor Marwyn was clearly an inconsiderate bastard, as he kept them waiting for quite a while before he would see them. Trying to keep Brienne amused, Jaime held her hand and kept asking about how SARC were planning on raising £300,000.

"I could run a marathon," suggested Jaime, "and you could set up a _GoFundMe _page and help me go viral."

Brienne gave him a little smile. "You would be good at that. You are a graceful runner... like a gazelle."

"I'm half gazelle," claimed Jaime, as if it was the utmost truth.

Brienne scoffed. "I've met your father. He seemed pretty human, if a bit insane."

"But you didn't meet my mother," Jaime replied. "A full blooded gazelle if ever there was one. That's why they had to remove my horns soon after birth. You can still see the scars, look."

"Stop being an idiot," she smiled.

"I can't," he smirked. "I was born that way."

She gave his hand an affectionate squeeze. "I know, but I still love you."

His expression softened. "I love you too, and always will, even after... whatever happens in there."

Brienne was just about to reply when the receptionist called out, "Mr and Mrs Lannister-Tarth? Doctor Marwyn will see you now."

Doctor Marwyn was an eccentric looking man. He was quite short, with a thick neck, a big face and tufts of white hair all over his head. Brienne thought he sort of looked like Danny DeVito's long lost brother. When they entered the room, Marwyn wasted no time in ushering them both into the seats on the other side of his desk. Even though he hurried them, Jaime would not let go of Brienne's hand.

"Right," said the doctor, easing into his own chair, "I take it you are here for your test results."

"Yes," replied Brienne meekly, unable to really say anything more. Sensing her nervousness, Jaime gave her hand a quick squeeze.

"Well, let's start with the good news, shall we?" Doctor Marwyn smiled, opening the folder on his desk. "Mr Lannister-Tarth, I've checked your sperm count, and it seems you've got one hundred million of the little swimmers per millilitre."

Jaime furrowed his brow. "Is that good?"

"Well, if I'm honest it's pretty impressive considering you are thirty eight. It is well above average and puts you in the top twenty five percent of men."

Jaime gave a happy little smirk at that. "Well of course I am."

_I'm never going to hear the end of this, _Brienne thought, as he started waggling his eyebrows at her.

"And," continued Doctor Marwyn, "it means this is very good news for your fertility. You should have no problem conceiving a baby." Even as Jaime smiled at her, Brienne started to feel a sickening lump beginning to bloom the pit of her stomach. 

Once Jaime had finished smirking, Doctor Marwyn turned to Brienne. "Now, Mrs Lannister-Tarth, I have something to show you." Opening the folder, he pulled out a picture of the ultrasound he had taken of Brienne's womb the month previously. Jaime leaned forward curiously, while Brienne held back. "Do you see these white lines?"

"Yeah," said Brienne nervously.

"This is scar tissue that has built up along the lining of your uterus. It could have been caused by an injury you've had, or even a urine infection."

"I'm a police officer," stuttered Brienne, "there are many times I've been hurt in the line of work."

"I'm sure," said Doctor Marwyn consolingly. "Now, what this means is that when an egg is fertilised, your uterine lining could have problems in holding it in place to allow it to grow and develop. You told me that you sometimes have light periods?"

"Yes," blushed Brienne, even as Jaime held her hand reassuringly, "and they are sometimes a little irregular."

Doctor Marwyn nodded sagely. "This is probably due to this uterine scarring you can see on the ultrasound."

There was a lump in Brienne's throat that prevented her from speaking; she knew what this meant. Yet, even so, Jaime had not put it together and therefore asked the question that she was dreading. "Doctor, what does this actually mean?"

Doctor Marwyn gave them both a sad smile. "I am sorry to say that it means that Mrs Lannister-Tarth will probably struggle to get pregnant naturally. There are drugs that we can put you on to aid conception, but there is no guarantee of success. Some of them also lead to a preponderance of multiple births, which will be something that you will want to think about very carefully before pursuing. IVF is also an option..."

However, Brienne barely heard what Doctor Marwyn said next, because she was trying to stop herself crying.

_It's my fault, _she thought. _I can't give Jaime a baby._

The next thing Brienne knew, Jaime had slung an arm around her shoulder and was pulling her close to him. "You said we would struggle, yes?" he asked Doctor Marwyn. "But not that it is impossible?"

_Not we, _Brienne told herself sadly. _Me._

Doctor Marwyn gave him a concerned expression. "It's not impossible, no, but at the same time I don't want to give you false hope."

"See, Brienne," whispered Jaime, basically ignoring what Doctor Marwyn had just said. "There's at least a _little _bit of hope."

Leaning over to open his drawer, Doctor Marwyn pulled out a handful of leaflets in many different colours. "These may be helpful in processing this news. There are numbers for advice lines, as well as information about infertility support groups that might be useful at the moment."

Jaime took them from Doctor Marwyn, and Brienne saw the title of the one at the top: "Infertility: What Now?"

_Infertility, _thought Brienne, as the word smashed into her with the force of an avalanche. _There it is. I'm infertile._

"Of course you will need time to talk about this," said Doctor Marwyn levelly, "but I recommend you book another appointment in a few weeks’ time where we can more clearly go through your options and decide what the best plan will be."

"That sounds great," said Jaime, trying to be enthusiastic for the both of them. "Doesn't it, Brienne?"

"Mmmm."

Doctor Marwyn's eyes flicked from Jaime to Brienne and back again. "Well, you can go and book a time with my receptionist Alleras, and he'll be able to..." Whatever Alleras was able to do was lost on Brienne, however, as all she could do was drown in the truth.

_I'm infertile._

_It's my fault._

_I can't give Jaime a baby._

* * *

When they got home, Jaime closed the front door of their little cottage and turned Brienne to face him. Putting his hands on her cheeks, he pulled her into a deep kiss. It was slow and sweet and meant to convey how much he loved her, but Brienne's mind was elsewhere.

Once they broke apart, he fixed her with a gaze that was full of promise. "Now," he, taking her hand in his. "After that, I think what we need is wine and chocolate, so I'm going to pop to _Lannisters _to get some. Does that sound alright with you? I should only be fifteen, twenty minutes."

Brienne nodded, not quite looking him the eye. To be honest, she thought she might appreciate some time alone. Quickly pecking her on the lips, Jaime smiled at her before picking up his door keys. "And when I get back, there will be nothing you can do to stop me giving you one of my terrible one handed massages. I'm going to make you feel so pampered tonight, my love, that you will forget you ever had anything to feel stressed about."

"Okay," said Brienne distantly, finding it very hard to look at him considering how achingly perfect he was.

"Twenty minutes tops," he reaffirmed, before opening the door once more. Not being able to resist it, he blew one more kiss at her, and then disappeared off to the shops. The second the door slammed shut, the refrain started up again.

_I'm infertile._

_It's all my fault._

_I can't give Jaime a baby._

In Jaime's absence, Brienne made her way to the bathroom, where she quickly began to run a bath for herself. As the water splashed into the ceramic tub, Brienne tried to distract herself by picking out a sweet smelling bubble bath, but the same old taunts kept going around and around her head.

_I'm infertile._

_It's all my fault._

_I can't give Jaime a baby._

How was this fair? All her life Brienne had beaten herself up over her ungraceful and unfeminine body. It had taken years and years of therapy and Jaime's love for her to think of it as anything other than a giant prison that kept her mocked and derided. But now? Now it seemed as if she was right all along.

_There is something wrong with me._

_I am broken._

_I can't give Jaime a baby._

Once the bath was full, Brienne took off her clothes and eased inside, letting the warm water wash over her skin. There was something about the soothing heat of it all that made it easier for her to cry. Not bothering to wipe her cheeks, she let them roll down her face as she thought of Jaime. The previous weekend, the two of them had gone to visit Tyrion. After the whole murderous cult thing, it was him who had gained custody of Tommen and Myrcella, but Jaime went to see them very regularly. At Tyrion's house, Jaime had gone to play with the kids in the garden, while Tyrion, Shae, and Brienne had watched them through the window of the lounge. It was clear that Tommen and Myrcella loved their Uncle Jaime, and Tommen had gone screaming with delight when Jaime had let him win at _What's the Time Mr Wolf? _Brienne had only been able to watch her husband, overwhelmed with affection for him, and thought what a good dad he would make.

_He can't be a dad._

_Not with me._

_I can't give Jaime a baby._

She was so engrossed in her sadness, that she did not hear the rattle of keys or the door open, and only realised Jaime was back when he came bowling into the bathroom looking thoroughly proud of himself.

"_Lannisters _had deal on boxes of _Roses _left over from Christmas, so I bought four... oh wench, what's the matter?"

The concerned look in his eye only made her dissolve into hysterical, noisy sobs that seemed to obscure anything she actually tried to say.

"Miebiqebdidk wefhueefdb eifwbn eifhkwdbw," she bawled, as Jaime began to take his shirt off. "Jbedwieiwe dedhwdbj defjewbfj?"

"I'm taking my clothes off," he smiled, knowing what she meant even if she wasn't annunciating very clearly. "I'm going to get in the bath with you."

"But..."

"Not buts," he said authoritatively. "I'm not going to let you cry alone. You look as if you need a cuddle." Knowing there was no good protesting, Brienne let a naked Jaime climb into the bath behind her and them seemingly wrap his entire body around her. Instinctually, she leant back into his chest, craving his warmth and the pleasurable feel of his chest hair on her back. "Now, tell me what's wrong."

She shook her head incredulously. "Everything that Doctor Marwyn told me. I'm going to struggle to have kids."

"No," said Jaime patiently. "_We're _going to struggle to have kids."

"Oh yeah," scoffed Brienne derisively. "You with your super high sperm count."

Jaime planted a gentle kiss on her neck. "Doesn't matter. I'm only trying for a baby with you, so it's still _we. We _are going to struggle to have kids, and we'll get through it. Doctor Marwyn said it would be hard, not impossible."

"But what if I fail?" Brienne sniffed. "What if I can't give you a baby?"

Jaime pulled her tightly against him so he could scoop both arms around her waist. "That's not failure. That's just a thing that's happened. You can't be perfect in every area of your life, Brienne, and, all things considered, I think you are pretty damn perfect just the way you are."

Brienne snorted at him. "You are blind."

"I've told you before," Jaime whispered close to her ear. "I have twenty-twenty vision."

"You still haven't answered my question," whined Brienne, a new wave of tears threatening to overcome her. "What if I can't give you a baby?"

"Then I won't have children," said Jaime resolutely. "Simple as, unless we decide to adopt or something."

She turned her head to look at him disbelievingly. Why would he give up the chance of being a father just because she was holding him back?

"Why?" she asked, dumbfounded, "you would be an amazing father."

He shook his head, looking at her as if she did not know him at all. "Because I love you. And I want to do this all with you, not anyone else."

"But I feel like I'm stopping you..."

Jaime pressed two fingers gently to her lips to silence her. "You are not. You have no idea how unbelievably happy you make me. Every day, I wake up and think, _oh, what a great day I'm going to have today, because I'm married to my wench."_

That he was a ridiculously romantic soppy bastard just made Brienne blush, "but..."

"What did I say?" he entreated, "no buts! Now come on, let me give you a little stress relief. You've had a long day."

"Stress relief? What do you...?"

Brienne did not get to finish her sentence, however, as she had taken a little gasp of air as Jaime dropped his hand between her thighs and began petting her as gently as if she were a small kitten. "I mean _this,_" he whispered. "Making you feel good."

When she didn't object, Jaime rearranged the way they were sitting to give him better access and began to stroke her delicately. "Do you like this?"

"Mmmm," Brienne replied, leaning back into him, feeling his chest against her as strong as a wall as he used his fingers so gently. "Yes, I do."

"Well then, let me pleasure you."

Jaime had always been a little clumsy with his left hand, but Brienne had never really cared when he touched her _there. _Although she was sure he wasn't as skilful as he had been with his right, Jaime fingered her with such focus on her pleasure that she could feel his affection for her pouring out of him. Before long, Brienne was letting out a series of soft, aching moans and Jaime was panting in her ear as he carefully worked her open. It did not take long; he knew her body so well that he could bring her to the edge quite swiftly, with the teasing tricks that only he knew. Reaching back with her right hand, Brienne found his cock and, as she had guessed, he was hard and ready for her.

"I want you," he whispered, as he put two fingers inside her while working his thumb in small, perfect circles. "So much." Brienne sometimes found it hard to believe that she had once doubted his desire for her when it was so clear how painfully and deeply he loved her. She had been so foolish.

"I want _you_," she replied, moving his hand away so she could bring herself up onto her knees and lean forward to rest her hands on the edge of the bath. Opening her legs, she made herself ready and available for him. "Jaime... please."

She did not have to ask twice. In a quick movement, Jaime came up on his knees behind her and lined himself up at her entrance. "Brienne," he said breathlessly, waiting for her consent. Turning her head, she nodded at him and, at her instruction, he pushed himself inside her as deep as he could go.

There was something familiar and intensely comforting about having her husband inside her, advancing and retreating with every thrust. Reaching around her body, he pressed his fingers against the little nub of pleasure that would send her into orbit and began rubbing her urgently. "I won't last long," he groaned, "you feel so good... so tight. I love you so much."

Brienne looked at the wall in front of her, unable to see his beautiful face contorted with desire, even though she had all the evidence she needed as to his feelings in the way he moved inside her. It was reverent. And yet even as he continued to thrust inside her, to press kisses along her back and shoulders, and tried desperately to bring her to her peak, dark thoughts crossed Brienne's mind.

_I'm infertile._

_It's all my fault._

_I can't give Jaime a baby._

_And I love him so much._

"Oh fuck Brienne," he moaned, getting closer and closer to coming with every thrust, "I love you... I love this... why does it feel so fucking good?"

_What's the point? _she thought suddenly. _What's the point in him doing this to me when I can't give him a baby?_

"Oh yes, you feel so good... Look at me, darling."

_I love him so much and can't do this one thing for him? How can he continue to love me when I've failed him?_

"Brienne, look at me! Please! I want to look into your eyes."

_Why would he ever want me when I can't..._

"Brienne..."

_He deserves so much better than this, so much better than me..._

"Brienne, look at me..."

_Jaime, I love you but..._

She suddenly felt his fingers under her chin, and he turned her head towards him so he could look her in the eye. The moment blue met green, Jaime came inside her with a roar, and she felt the familiar warmth that was distinctly him coursing through her.

"Oh, Brienne, I love you so much. This feels so good."

_What's the point of him coming inside me when I've failed him?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this wouldn't be Big Cop Brienne without her getting super worked up about her relationship with Jaime, so here is obstacle number one in their relationship! I hope you like where this is going and if you do (or if you don't) please leave comments or kudos. They keep me young!
> 
> PS. Bonus points for the super obvious "Run, Fat Knight, Run" shoutout, and the less obvious "Woman Up" ones!
> 
> Next chapter... the new Sergeant arrives in Casterly...


	3. The Baby Making Spreadsheet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne talk about the consequences of their appointment at the fertility clinic...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, soz guys. I took part in false advertising last time. There is no new sergeant this chapter because I split a massive chapter into two. You will get to learn her identity though!
> 
> As ever, I love comments and kudos, so please let me know how I'm doing :)

That night, Brienne barely slept a wink. All she could think about was how much Jaime deserved all the things she couldn't give him, and what an amazing father he would be if only he had the chance.

It was all so unfair.

After they had got out of the bath, Jaime had gone and found her warmest, fluffiest dressing gown and forced her into it, before making her sit down on the sofa with him and feeding her so much chocolate she thought she would be sick.

"But we need to talk about..."

"No we don't," he insisted. "We need to drink wine and cuddle and watch Season 3 of the German time travel show. And I need you to draw me a family tree of the characters because, even though you've already explained it, I'm still really confused."

They only had time to watch one episode in the end, mainly because of how long Brienne had taken in explaining they were watching a show that followed the rules of _Prisoner of Azkaban _time travel - "everything that happens, happens" - and then they went to bed. For some reason, Jaime refused to put his pyjamas on and just cuddled up next to her, totally naked, before putting his arms around her.

"You are being Little Spoon this evening," he whispered in her ear.

"But I'm the Big Spoon."

"Not tonight you're not," he laughed. "Come on, just let me hold you."

When she woke up in the morning, Jaime's arm was still slung over her waist and his chin was resting on her shoulder. He was snoring ever so slightly, and Brienne had to resist the urge to lean over and kiss him he because of the sheer cuteness of it.

Then reality interrupted.

_I can't give Jaime a baby, _she thought, which quickly snapped her out of her reverie. Suddenly not really wanting to look at him, not when he seemed so peaceful and serene, Brienne sneaked out of bed and went to have a shower before work. It took her a little while to find her shampoo given the vast quantity of Jaime's hair products that were dotted around the bathroom, but eventually she did, and took to scrubbing her hair into a lather to distract herself.

_Remember what Doctor Aemon said, _she reminded herself. _I am catastrophising here. Only worry over the things you can do something about, and not the things you can't._

_This is a thing I can't do anything about, and I can't let myself beat myself up about this, or I will go back into my old patterns of thinking._

_I cannot change this._

_..._

_Or can I?_

* * *

When Jaime and Brienne arrived at the station later that morning, the staff room was bustling with action, because Margaery and Robb Stark were getting a little bitchy at each other.

"I _know _I left my falafel wrap in the staff fridge yesterday," snapped Margaery, "you must have taken it."

Robb Stark scoffed. "Why would I want your falafel wrap? I'm a carnivore, thanks very much. I like my steak rare."

"You are an animal."

"But you love it."

Ignoring Margaery and Robb's bickering as it got even more inane and ridiculous, Brienne and Jaime went into the staff kitchen, where she put the kettle on. Jaime had just started getting the tea bags out when she turned to him.

"Jaime."

"Mmm?"

"What do you think of the current patrol rotas?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you mean?"

"Well," she began, "do you think everyone is getting along?"

Jaime shrugged his shoulders. "As they usually do, I suppose. Now Ilyn's gone down to part time, it means we can put him on paperwork while the Hound and Margaery, and me and Pod can partner up. Jon's needed at the front desk, and the Robbs come as a pair, so there is no splitting them up. Obviously, I would prefer it if you still came out on patrol with me, but I am aware the Chief Inspector has more important things to do than hang out with a lowly sergeant like myself."

Brienne gave him a little smile. "I don't know, I think we hang out quite a lot."

"Mmm," Jaime agreed, slipping his arms around Brienne's waist. "I particularly enjoyed bath time."

She shook her head at him, laughing. "We're at work."

"It didn't stop us in the car the other week, did it?" he smirked.

Brienne rolled her eyes. "Please don't bring that up. I'll never live it down."

Jaime just laughed and gave her a quick peck on the lips. When she pulled away, he said, "why did you ask me about the patrol rotas anyway?"

"Oh, it's just we've got that new sergeant arriving, and I was just deciding who to pair her with. The options are really you, Margaery, the Hound, or Pod. Pod's still fairly new to this, so I don't really want to put that pressure on him, and although the Hound is a sweetie deep down, he can be really hard work when you don't know him. And Margaery... well..." stalled Brienne, trying to think of the right words.

"Has been acting like a fucking nutter recently?" suggested Jaime.

"Well, I wasn't going to use words _quite _that strong, but..."

"But she's behaving like a fucking nutter," smiled Jaime, knowing he was right. "Continue."

Brienne thought about her best friend. Margaery had seemed stressed recently, but with everything that had been going on, Brienne had not quite found the right way to broach the issue yet. "What do you think is the matter?"

Jaime let go of Brienne's waist and turned back to the tea. "I think it's probably Robb. Ever since they sort of got together at the Christmas party, they've been breaking up and getting back together and arguing over falafels like nobody's business. It's probably something to do with him."

In a recent poll that had been conducted at _The Inn at the Crossroads _by the half of the Casterly Constabulary that weren't shagging another member of the team, it was concluded that Margaery and Robb were the second most annoying couple on the village's Police Service.

"That can't be right," Jaime had interjected, taking a swig of his beer, "have you seen the ridiculous googly eyes that he gives her?"

The Hound had let out a derisive chuckle. "But have you seen the ridiculous googly eyes that _you _give your wife? You two are still the most annoying, because Robb and Margaery have not yet been caught feeding each other _Jelly Babies _during a talk on tractor crime by the Avon & Somerset Police's Chief Commissioner."

"Touché," Jaime had responded.

When Jaime poured Brienne a mug of tea, she gave him a peck on the cheek and said, "I'll talk to her. We've been meaning to have a catch up anyway."

"Good. I would volunteer to talk to Robb, but he's never really been known for being in touch with his feelings."

"True," conceded Brienne, taking a sip of her tea before returning to the important topic at hand. "Well, given that Margaery's out, it looks like the best thing to do is to switch things round so Pod, the Hound, and Margaery go on patrol as a three, and you take responsibility for the new sergeant as she settles in."

Jaime looked at little nervous at that. "Do you think I'll be able to do it?"

"You helped me settle in when I first arrived," Brienne smiled. "Even if getting in touch with your inner swan was not the most orthodox way of going about it."

"But you hated my guts!" exclaimed Jaime.

Laughing, Brienne said, "a bit like Robb Stark, I think I'm not really known for being in touch with my feelings either."

"I'm going to take that to mean that you wanted to jump me from the moment you first saw me," said Jaime smugly.

"You do that," she smirked. "But you would be incorrect."

* * *

Later that morning the station was mostly empty, apart from Brienne in her office and Jon on the front desk, given that the other officers were on patrol. Consequently, Brienne took the opportunity to do one task that had been on her to-do list for several days. Picking up the phone on her desk, she rang Hizdahr zo Loraq, the Chief Inspector of the West Midlands Police, who was arranging the transfer of the new sergeant.

"Hello Hizdahr, it's Brienne Lannister-Tarth from Casterly."

"Oh, hi," replied Hizdahr, his voice a bit muffled. "How's everything going?"

"Great. I'm just phoning to say that I've got a hold of a perfect little one bedroom flat for Melara. It's on Highgarden Avenue with a lovely view of the park and is close to all the local amenities. Given that in the email you just sent me it seems that Sergeant Hetherspoon wants to transfer here next week, I would need to get this processed as quickly as possible. Of course we would have to put her up in a hotel for a few weeks - _The White Stag _is nice - but I just want to get things moving."

There was a little pause on the other end of the phoneline. "How's the Feng shui in the flat?

"What?" asked Brienne confusedly.

"The _Feng shui,_" Hizdahr repeated, as if it made anything any clearer. "Melara's into all that astrological pseudoscience stuff. I'm not kidding you; she regularly consults with a psychic. She won't want to move anywhere if the aura is off."

Brienne tried not to roll her eyes. She already felt forced on the issue of having someone take the sergeant's position that was rightfully Margaery's, so she did not like that this new sergeant might be quite so fussy. Already, Brienne had a sneaking suspicion that Melara Hetherspoon would struggle to fit in with the intensely practical Casterly Constabulary, whose bonds had been forged through a battle with a murderous cult.

"Right," said Brienne resignedly, "well, all I can do is send her photos of the flat and see if she likes it. If she doesn't, she'll have to find somewhere else herself."

"Seems reasonable," replied Hizdahr. "Okay, I'll let her know. Also, can you confirm to me that next Tuesday is alright for her to start?"

"What about Monday?" asked Brienne, "it would help me out as we schedule patrol rotas and duties on a weekly basis."

Hizdahr sighed again. "Apparently Melara's psychic advisor has told her it will be more auspicious if she begins work on Tuesday. Do you mind?"

Knowing that it was Melara who was making a big move cross country to take up this job, Brienne relented. "Okay. Just tell her if she has any problems to contact me. She has my email and number."

"Will do," confirmed Hizdahr. "It was nice speaking with you, Inspector Lannister-Tarth."

"You too. Goodbye."

"Bye."

Hanging up on the Chief Inspector, Brienne tried not to get riled up as she crossed back to the computer in order to email photos of the flat to Sergeant Hetherspoon. The whole thing was just ridiculous because who, after all, seriously listened to what psychics said unless they were a silly teenage girl at a fair, asking about a boy they had a crush on? Tutting to herself, Brienne sent across the photos, making sure to conclude her emails with _Regards _instead of _Kind Regards, _in order to subtly indicate how pissed off she was with the whole situation.

After she had finished dealing with the new sergeant problem, Brienne decided to put the plan she had thought of earlier in the day into action. To her immense regret, in the immediate aftermath of the fertility appointment, Brienne had taken Doctor Marwyn's words about not wanting to give them false hope to heart and had almost gone back to an old dark place in her own mind. To try and combat it, she had spent the better part of the morning thinking over what her therapist, Doctor Aemon, would likely say about this situation. Eventually, Brienne concluded that Doctor Aemon would like think they had _more _than the little hope Jaime suggested, because she was a resourceful woman and had access to something called _Google._

Whacking open the search engine on her phone, Brienne started asking the internet questions that would help her realise her hearts deepest desires.

_How do you get pregnant with uterine scarring?_

_Why is ovulation important?_

_How to track ovulation_

_Ovulation basal body temperature calculation_

_Amazon thermometers_

_Crappy womb + high sperm count_

_Free app to work out when I'm ovulating_

_Paid app to work out when I'm ovulating_

_Pregnancy ovulation when to have sex_

_Conception and sex positions_

_Conception and missionary_

_How to tell my husband he needs to dominate me in bed more_

After several hours of intense googling, Brienne had finally come up with a plan. She had downloaded an app called _EggTime _that allowed her to track her periods and work out when she would be ovulating for the next few months. From there, she had created a spreadsheet itemising all the optimal times for her and Jaime to have sex in order to best facilitate contraception. She also added a second column for when she had bought her thermometer. Apparently (according to _Google_), by taking her basal body temperature at certain points during her cycle she could almost work out to the minute when she was ovulating. Therefore, she would use the second column to be even more specific about timing when she had worked out her body temperature.

The bit she hadn't included was the recommendations from an evangelical Christian website that the missionary position aided conception, and she knew it was because if she did, Jaime would veto the plan immediately. Although he wasn't against missionary, Jaime had always been of the firm belief that her on top made life infinitely better, so it would take a bit of persuading on Brienne's part to get him to agree to shake up their whole sexual dynamic. However, she thought she could do it. She knew what made her husband tick after all.

Brienne had just emailed him the spreadsheet when she heard the officers coming back into the staff room at the end of their patrol. Getting up from her desk, Brienne went to meet them.

"Robb," Margaery was saying exasperatedly, "not now! I've just got back off patrol, and I had to put up with Masha at the _Inn _spending several hours accusing that Aurane Waters guy of stealing several packets of crackling with no evidence at all. Therefore, I would like to go home. I don't want to talk about our _feelings _for the seven hundredth time in two days."

"But..."

"No buts!" huffed Margaery. "Why don't you leave me alone and go and eat that falafel wrap of mine you stole." And then, before Robb (or Brienne) could get two words in edgeways, Margaery had picked up her bag and was marching out of the station, clearly determined to spend no more extra time at the office when she did not have to.

_I really need to speak to her, _Brienne thought. _I'll have to make time._

Looking a little disappointed, Robb Stark turned to Robb Arryn. "Come on, do you want to go to the _Inn? _I need a pint after that."

"Why don't we make it a group outing?" suggested Jon, appearing from the front desk.

When the Hound, Ilyn, and Pod all made noises of agreement, Brienne raised her hand. "I'm sorry, but could I steal my husband away for a minute?"

Jaime looked at her curiously. "Don't fancy the pub?"

"Oh yeah, of course," smiled Brienne. "It's just can we have a quick chat about something in private first?"

His expression of curiosity turned to one of concern as all the other members of the Constabulary packed up their bags to leave. "Will you come to _The Inn _afterwards?" asked the Hound. "We can save you seats?"

"Sure," replied Brienne. "We won't be far behind."

Jaime continued to look a little bit worried until all their colleagues had left the room and he was finally able to ask, "what's up?"

"I've sent you something. Why don't you check your email?"

Furrowing his brow, Jaime got his phone out and opened the most recent email from his wife. "_The Baby Making Spreadsheet,_" he said, squinting as he read. "What's this?"

"Well," she said excitedly. "I decided not to get too worked up about Doctor Marwyn's prognosis, so I've spent the afternoon coming up with a plan."

"And put it on _Microsoft Excel, _I see."

"What is life without a few handy spreadsheets?"

"Fun?" he quipped back, giving her a little grin.

Shaking her head at his poor joke, Brienne came over to stand next to him so she could point out the features of the spreadsheet. "Now, you know Doctor Aemon is always telling me it might help to channel some of my most realistic anxieties into practical solutions, I decided to look up how best to get pregnant in my situation, and Doctor Google was very informative."

Jaime tilted his head, as if he were unsure. "Doctor Google is not a replacement for a genuine fertility specialist though, Brienne. We are going to schedule another appointment with Doctor Marwyn in a few weeks’ time. Why don't we just wait until then to see what the best course of action is?"

"I didn't like Doctor Marwyn," said Brienne. "To be honest, because he was so blunt it pushed me into a bit of a bad mental space for a minute."

"Okay," said Jaime reassuringly, "but then we'll find another fertility specialist and book an appointment with _them. _Google cannot replace a person with an actual degree in all this stuff." Even though his tone was gentle, Jaime had crossed his arms, which Brienne knew was him getting into a slightly entrenched position. She would have to go more softly-softly if she wanted him to see her side of the argument.

Stepping forward, Brienne wrapped her arms round his neck. Not relenting, he stayed rigidly in position until she purred, "you do like having sex with me, don't you?"

At that question, his arms were around her waist in an instant. "Of course. It's just, if we do it in such a regimented way as you've laid out on this document, won't that suck the fun out of it?"

Brienne raised her eyebrows at him, pretending to be offended. "When has sex with me ever not been fun?"

"Good point," acquiesced Jaime, "but I still think that..."

"Do you mind just trying this with me? Just for a little bit? It will make me really happy."

Taking his left hand from her waist, he cupped her cheek as he sighed, "if it will make you happy, my love, I'll give it a go."

"It will," she replied, smiling.

"On one condition?"

"What?"

"You buy me an extra-large _Guinness _when we get to the pub."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... if you want to read all about Margaery and Robb getting together, please read the first chapter of my "Many Flavours of Ice Cream" story. Other "Big Cop" related chapters are two, four, and twelve. They will give you a little extra to what is going on! If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider leaving comments and kudos!
> 
> Next chapter... the new sergeant arrives in Casterly (for real this time)...


	4. Welcome to Casterly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new sergeant arrives in Casterly...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! No false advertising this time! The new sergeant really does arrive. I hope you enjoy this chapter, let me know in the form of comments and kudos if you did. I love to know how I'm doing, and it helps me improve as a writer.

At five in the morning, Brienne's alarm went off. Her eyes were wide open in an instant, so she rolled over to shake Jaime awake. She felt a bit guilty, mainly because he had a superpower that allowed him to sleep through the loudest of alarms, but even so, they were now in thrall to a higher power:

The Baby Making Spreadsheet.

"Jaime," she hissed, trying to wake him up without being too loud. "You've got to wake up."

"Wha?" he murmured, rolling over so he could scoop her up in his arms and pull her near. In spite of this movement towards intimacy, he kept his eyes closed.

Brienne tried not to sound cross. "Jaime, stop dicking around. We've got to have sex. Today is ovulation day."

"I'm not dicking around," came his very tired voice. "I'm sleeping. It's you who wants me to dick around..."

"Well wake up! We've got to do this _now, _or we'll struggle fixing a time to do it later."

Jaime finally opened his eyes. "We could do it when we get home tonight? Or we could just cuddle. That might be fun."

"We are not doing this for fun," Brienne reminded him sternly. "We are doing this so we can have a baby."

_And I really, really want to give you a baby and make you happy, _Brienne thought, but didn't say it.

Rubbing his eyes, Jaime said sleepily, "we could maybe do it in your office or something if you give me a reason to stay back from patrol. Then we could stay asleep now."

"While I would normally jump at that plan," replied Brienne, "we can't today, because the new sergeant is arriving. Remember you promised me that you would show her around Casterly?"

"Oh god, yeah I did. I totally forgot about that."

"Right, so it's now or never."

Sighing, Jaime turned over so he was on his back. Once he was in position, he gave her a sultry look. "Come on then, wench, fuck me." With that, he lifted his arms above his head and Brienne knew at once what he wanted; her to get on top of him and hold him down, while she rode him and kissed him and told him how much she loved him. Just how they liked it.

However, Brienne knew they could not do it like that. Remembering what she had read on the internet (the woman on top impeded conception), Brienne said, "I thought we could try something a little different."

Jaime grinned at her. "Isn't five in the morning a bit early to get experimental?"

"It's not that experimental..." Brienne replied.

"Good, because it's much too early for me to try any sexual acrobatics. I'm an old man, I'll put my back out."

"Oh yes," teased Brienne, "this conversation is putting me right in the mood."

Jaime bit his lip. "For me it was you declaring you were ovulating. Scientific terminology relating to the reproductive system gets me _so hot,_" he said sarcastically, before letting out a completely over the top sex noise. "So, what do you want to try out?"

"The missionary position," replied Brienne, barely able to suppress her laughter.

Jaime smirked at her. "Oh, wench, you are such a bad girl."

And without another word, Jaime climbed on top of her and begin to kiss her with as much enthusiasm as if it was their first time together after Stannis Baratheon's drinks reception. Wanting to encourage him, Brienne ran her fingers through his hair - his soft, pretty, blond hair - before trailing her hands down across his face so she could cup his cheeks, as if she were beholding him. She could feel the familiar roughness of his scruff against her hands and was suddenly overcome with an urgent desire to feel his stubble scraping the inside of her thighs as he ate her out. Jaime loved doing that for her, Jaime would always...

_No, _she told herself, trying to push that thought away. _That's not why we are having sex._

However, Jaime seemed to disagree. Breaking the kiss for a moment, he reached down and pulled Brienne's nightdress over her head and threw it across the room. Not wasting any time, he planted a trail of kiss down her neck and across her chest, before settling on her breasts. While teasing the nipple of her left, he began kissing and sucking at her right, all the while gazing up at her with his lovely green eyes. Breathing heavily, Brienne reached out so she could run her hand along the bunched muscles of his shoulders, the nape of his neck, wanting to feel close to him. Just feeling the warmth of his skin made her moan.

_How is he so perfect?_

Seeing what an effect he was having on her, Jaime began to move further down her body, kissing each of the barely visible ribs under her breast, running his tongue along her taut stomach, before briefly swirling it around her belly button. As he got lower and lower, he nudged her legs apart with his shoulders. Lost in pleasure, it was only when she felt his hot breath between her thighs that Brienne realised what he was trying to do.

"Jaime, stop," she moaned.

For the first time ever during sex, he looked up at her with a confused expression. "What's the matter?"

"We don't have time for that."

He furrowed his brow. "But it's five in the morning."

"Still doesn't mean we have time for that."

At her objection, he fixed her with a teasing smile. "But," he purred, before dropping a kiss on the top of her thigh, "you... taste... so... good." He leant forward, thinking he had convinced her, but she shoved him backwards and tried to close her legs.

"No. This is not the point. You've got to get inside me. That's how babies are conceived."

"I'm aware," he said tartly, moving up the bed to lie beside her, "but don't we both need a bit of warming up first?"

Rolling her eyes, Brienne stuck her hand down Jaime's pyjama bottoms and gave his cock a few quick, rough strokes to get him fully erect. "There," she announced, somewhat proudly, "now come on. Hurry up. We've got a schedule to keep."

* * *

After they had done it, Jaime wanted to cuddle, but Brienne had other things on her mind.

"Sorry, I don't have time. The radio repairman is meant to be coming to the station today and I need to phone him to check what time he's planning on turning up, and then I have to psyche myself up over having someone new joining us. The Casterly Constabulary are such a strong team, and I don't want the addition of a new person to wreck the dynamic we have."

Jaime sighed before copying her and getting out of bed. "It doesn't have to ruin anything. You were a new person once, and I can tell you in those first few weeks you were not the most popular..."

Brienne froze. It was something she had suspected at the time, but she had never expected to hear it so bluntly. "Really? Who didn't like me?"

Sensing he had offended her, Jaime walked towards her and gave her a reassuring smile. "Oh, mainly Robb and Robb because you complained to my father about their smoking. They got over it, because the point I am trying to make is you were new once and look at how much you are now loved by the team."

He was gazing at her so softly that Brienne thought if he continued to stare at her like that for too long, they would be back in bed in an instant. Wanting to stop that possible course of events, Brienne said, "thanks. I'll bear that in mind."

After they had showered, had breakfast together, and got changed, Jaime and Brienne walked to work like they normally did. Instead of strolling hand in hand as they were sometimes prone to - which the Hound called "gross" - Brienne found herself marching down the road talking firmly into her phone, while Jaime jogged behind, trying to keep up.

"Look, I'm sorry Mr Toilet..."

"_Tollett,_" came an annoyed reply.

"_Mr Tollett,_" Brienne corrected, "but the radio repair company said you would be here sometime this afternoon. The station isn't actually open yet, so that's why you can't get in. Jon probably hasn't opened up yet."

"Well," said the radio repairman dourly, "I might come back another day then."

"NO!" Brienne shouted, panicked, making Jaime laugh, "we need those radios fixed. I'll be with you as quick as I can. Only ten more minutes, okay?"

After hanging up, Brienne picked up her pace so dramatically that Jaime was running along beside her, meaning they both outright ignored Masha Heddle when she waved good morning to them. Even so, the whole run turned out to be a pointless waste of time, because by the time they arrived at the station it was clear that Jon had already opened up as the front doors were wide open. Edd Tollett the radio repairman was waiting for them in the car park, his arms folded across his chest.

"Constable Snow told me to wait here for you, because he's dealing with some new person at front desk or something."

_Oh, _thought Brienne. _That must be Sergeant Hetherspoon. Interesting to hear that she's an early bird._

"Thank you for waiting," said Brienne, before turning to Jaime. "My love, would you mind explaining to Mr Tollett what's going on with the radios while I go and meet the new member of our team? It's all happening at once today."

"Sure," replied Jaime, giving her an easy smile and a peck on the cheek. "I'll be in once it's all sorted."

"Great," Brienne smiled, giving his hand a quick squeeze before turning away and heading towards the station. Even as she approached the door, she could tell things would be different from now on, as she could hear a mellifluous laugh.

"Oh, Constable Snow," came a pretty, girlish voice, "you are _so _funny."

"Am I?" replied Jon, clearly a little bewildered. Nobody had accused him of being that before. When Brienne entered the room, Jon gave her a nod. "Good morning Chief."

"Good morning Jon," smiled Brienne, before turning to the woman who was standing next to him. "And I take it this is Sergeant Hetherspoon."

At the mention of her name, Sergeant Melara Hetherspoon turned around and beamed a mega-watt smile. She was everything that Brienne would never be; small and petite, she had a long wave of chestnut brown hair, and a matching pair of warm eyes. Brienne could tell by the way she was standing that there was an inherent grace to her, the type that Margaery also possessed, but, unlike Brienne's best friend, Melara seemed to have hers poised as a kind of weapon. Even the freckles that dotted Melara's face seemed to have been artfully placed, whereas Brienne's were more akin to a Jackson Pollock painting.

_I'm over this, _Brienne told herself warningly. _Don't let yourself go there. Don't let yourself get jealous over nothing._

"Ah," smiled Melara happily, extending her hand. "And you must be Chief Inspector Tarth, am I correct?"

"_Lannister_-Tarth," Brienne added, shaking Melara's hand. "It is so nice to meet you. I hope you had a pleasant journey?"

"Perfect," beamed Melara. "The weather has been beautiful considering its only February."

"Indeed," replied Brienne sceptically, thinking _beautiful _was over doing it somewhat. "Now, most of your colleagues will be arriving soon, but I will show you round the station before they get here. You've met Jon at least."

"Yes, and he was most charming." Jon went such a brilliant shade of red at that compliment that Brienne briefly considered firing him.

Over the next ten minutes, Brienne took Melara to see everything in the station - the staff room, the staff kitchen, the evidence room, the Robbs office, _her _office - with Melara saying supremely complimentary things about _everything._

"Oooh, I like the daffodils in your office. You have good taste."

"That's not me," Brienne said, feeling herself blushing slightly. "That's my husband. He likes getting me flowers."

"Oh, how sweet."

"He is."

Once the tour had ended, Brienne took Melara back to the staff room, only to find that most of their colleagues had arrived. Almost immediately, Brienne started the round of introductions, choosing the Hound first because he could always be relied on to be a grumpy bastard. As Brienne herself had not had it easy when she first arrived, she thought Melara shouldn't either, especially after all the Feng Shui rubbish, her annoying laugh, and her ability to make Jon blush with ease.

"Sergeant Hetherspoon, please meet Sergeant Sandor Clegane."

"Pleasure," said the Hound, not sounding as if it were a pleasure at all. If Jon was getting fired, the Hound was getting a promotion.

When Brienne had been first introduced to the Hound all those years ago, she had been a bit put off by his gruff demeanour. Melara seemed to take it in her stride, however. "Oh, what a lovely dog. What's his name?"

The Hound's expression warmed slightly as he said, "that's Joff. He's the best police dog in the world."

"Oh, he looks it," Melara cooed. "Have you considered entering him in the _National Police Dog Championships? _A colleague back in Birmingham used to do it with their dog and it was great fun. Joff is so handsome that I am sure he would do amazingly."

To Brienne's utter disbelief, the Hound then started soliloquising at length on how he had been considering it for some time but had not found the courage to fill out the application form.

"Oh, you definitely should. I know some people on the judging panel, so if you need any help, I'd be happy to oblige."

"Thanks," said the Hound in response, almost making Brienne fall over at how _pleased _he looked.

_Right, this won't do, _thought Brienne sharply. _I'm not letting her have it this easy._

She next decided to introduce Melara to Robb Stark, knowing he could also be a bit of a twat when he wanted to be. However, he was so distracted by whatever whispered conversation he was having with Margaery, that he gave Melara an out of character polite hello. To top it all off, Margaery then did the same. Knowing all hope was lost, Brienne then had to introduce Melara to the more placid members of the team - Robb Arryn, Ilyn, and Pod - who all went out of their way to make her feel as welcome as possible. Pod was even stammering and blushing. Brienne couldn't believe it. When she had first joined, it had felt like a bit of a battle for everyone to accept her, and here was Melara just flitting in and charming everyone in a heartbeat. At least there was still Jaime. When Brienne had first met him, everything he had said had rubbed her up the wrong way and they had bickered incessantly for weeks and weeks. Maybe he would do that with Melara.

_Actually, _thought Brienne suddenly. _I don't want Jaime to bicker with Melara. Bickering Jaime is my Jaime. Cold, Indifferent Jaime can be Melara's Jaime._

_On second thoughts, Cold, Indifferent Jaime is also my Jaime. Melara can have none of Jaime at all._

Brienne was so deep in thought that when Jaime eventually arrived back in the staff room after talking to Edd that she barely noticed that he clearly had things to discuss. "Brienne, Edd wants us to hand all our personal radios in so he can check... Melara?"

At the sound of her name being called, Melara turned around, her hair swishing like she was in a bloody shampoo advert. That wasn't the worst of it, however, as when she saw Jaime, Melara's deep brown eyes suddenly went wide and her cheeks flushed. She was just so naturally pretty. "Jaime? I didn't know you worked here?"

"Yeah, for ages," he said happily as Melara trotted towards him. "I'm a sergeant. What are you doing here?"

"It's my first day!"

Jaime's mouth widened in surprise. "You are the new sergeant? But I thought you took up a modelling job in London after you left school?"

Melara laughed. "Yes, I did, but that was over fifteen years ago. I didn't want to stay a model forever."

_Of course she's a model, _thought Brienne, _of course._

"Well, it's lovely to see you again," smiled Jaime as Melara leant in and kissed him on the cheek. Brienne could have sworn the entire Constabulary took a little intake of breath at that. Telling herself it didn't mean anything, Brienne tried to catch Jaime's eye, but he was too busy gushing over Melara. "It's been too long."

"It has!" Melara agreed. "We will have to have a catch up. You could also take me to see Cersei, I haven't seen her in years. How is she?"

There was an awkward pause before Jaime said, "she's in prison for murder."

"And conspiracy to commit murder," added Margaery.

"And grievous bodily harm," chirped Pod.

"And property damage," grunted the Hound.

"Oh," said Melara, her smile dimming. "That's a shame. I would have liked to see her again. But... nevermind. It will just have to be you and me. I would love to have a chat and know how the last twenty years have been for Jaime Lannister."

Jaime grinned at her, beautiful and troubling. "Actually, I think Brienne has arranged for me to be your new partner. Isn't that right, Brienne?"

Kicking herself inwardly for her stupid plan, Brienne said stiffly, "something like that."

"Oh, how brilliant!" Melara beamed. "It will give us all the time in the world to catch up. My psychic advisor told me I would have an important reunion this week - I just never thought it would be _you._"

Jaime laughed - warm, familiar - and gave Melara a smile that reached to his eyes. It made Brienne's stomach whirl. "Well, maybe it was written in the stars."

"Yes," Melara agreed, putting her hand on his arm, "written in the stars. Now, why don't you show me our police car?"

It was not Jaime who answered however, but the Hound. "It's probably time we all went on patrol. Chief, considering you want to pair Lannister with Hetherspoon, shall Margaery and I take Pod?"

Brienne could only nod mutely as all the members of the Casterly Constabulary paired off for the morning patrol. She was so stunned at the fact that Jaime and Melara knew each other, that she could not think of anything to say as they left the staff room together, babbling about coincidences and fate and all other kind of rubbish. In fact, nobody said anything else to her apart from Margaery, who came up to her when they were the last ones in the room.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "We can go and have a bitch about our new colleague pissing on your patch after work. How does coffee at _Biscuits for All Occasions _sound?"

"Great," replied Brienne meekly, finally regaining control of her voice.

* * *

Brienne could barely concentrate as she did her paperwork, because all she could think about was Melara Hetherspoon and how perfect she looked as a member of the team, hanging off Jaime's arm. Jon and Pod had blushed. The Hound had taken her recommendations per the _National Police Dog Championships. _Robb Stark had been _polite._

And Jaime had been Jaime.

_Calm down, _Brienne tried to tell herself. _These are anxious thoughts you are having. Remember what Doctor Aemon said? You have to recognise them for what they are in order to shut them down. You are feeling a bit insecure at the moment because of the whole infertility thing, and no doubt because Connington has just rocked up into town. Nothing has changed. Jaime loves you. Jaime wants to be with you. Jaime is married to you. Just because he was nice to Melara, and Melara was nice to everybody else, it doesn't mean anything._

That was what Brienne had to repeatedly remind herself when Jaime slipped into her office at the end of the day, a huge smile on his face. "Brienne, Melara and I are just going to go out for a quick _Welcome to Casterly _drink if you don't mind? I shouldn't be too long."

"Okay," said Brienne, trying to keep her anxieties at bay. "I think Margaery and I are popping out anyway."

Jaime nodded. "Great. When we get home though, I would like to finish what we started this morning."

Brienne looked at him quizzically, "what's that exactly?"

"Well," he said, dropping his voice. "You said we didn't have time for me to eat you out, and that's all I've been thinking about all day."

"You sex fiend," Brienne joked, even as Jaime's expression softened.

"I know it's just... I want to do something that's just for us, not because it's been dictated by the spreadsheet."

Overwhelmed by how affectionate he could sometimes be, Brienne said, "of course. I'd love to."

"Great, I'll hold you to it," he purred, before disappearing in search of Melara.

After that declaration from Jaime, Brienne was fully able to allocate all of her worries about Melara into a box labelled "over the top anxious thoughts" and store them somewhere in the back of her head so they could not hurt her. The plan worked so well that by the time she and Margaery were sitting in _Biscuits for All Occasions, _munching on gingerbread, Brienne felt no need to talk about Melara. Instead, Margaery just moaned about Robb.

"That man is stuck to me like a limpet," she complained. "He can't seem to understand that just because I suck him off regularly, it doesn't mean I want to marry him."

"You don't?" inquired Brienne curiously as she took a sip of tea. "Don't you see him in that way? Boyfriend material?"

"I'm not sure," began Margaery, trying to find the words. "It's just that I am a strong independent woman who doesn't need a man to make her complete. Robb and I have lots of really great sex, but he also wants to go to the cinema and go out for dinner and all that bullshit."

"Is it so bad?" asked Brienne. "I mean, Jaime and I have lots of really great sex too, but I still like cuddling up to him and watching a stupid movie at the end of the day. I'm a strong independent woman as well, but there's nothing shameful in just having someone there who loves you."

Margaery smiled, looking at Brienne as if she were a little simple. "But the difference between you and me, Brienne, is you've _met _someone who loves you. Jaime is completely besotted; he took a bullet for you for god's sake. Robb doesn't love me. He just likes the sex."

Brienne was confused, because Margaery's story seemed highly contradictory. "But you just said yourself he wants to go on dates with you!"

"Yeah," conceded Margaery, "but I could I tell him about the stomach pains I'm having at the moment? Or my constant need to pee? Would he come to the doctor's appointment I've booked next week with me?"

"You wouldn't know unless you asked," said Brienne firmly.

Margaery sighed. "No, I _do_ know. Robb is just here for the good times, it's just the type of guy he is. He wouldn't come to the doctor's with me, or help me if I'm a bit down, or if I have a real problem. Therefore, I'm not really interested in dating him. We can continue to just be fuck buddies."

When Brienne had first met Robb Stark, she had thought him a bit of a dick too, but in all the years they had worked together, she had come to understand he was an intensely loyal, if somewhat impulsive, man who at least tried to do his best. He was close to his sisters, and loved his mum. All things considered, she thought Margaery was selling him a bit short.

"Well, as long as you are sure," she said, stirring her tea, "but I'm sure Robb would come to the doctors with you if you just asked."

"And_ I_ am sure he wouldn't," reiterated Margaery, "you've met him, haven't you?"

Brienne smiled. "Yes, but look at Jaime and I. At first, I distrusted every single declaration of love that came out of his mouth and look where we are now; trying for a baby."

"Oooh, I forgot to ask about that. How did the fertility appointment go?"

Brienne sighed. "Not great if I'm completely honest."

"Oh babe," said Margaery, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "What was the matter?"

"Apparently, although Jaime has a super high sperm count or something, it's me that's at fault."

Margaery leant forward, putting her tea down so she could hold both of Brienne's hands. "This is not your fault. This is just a thing that has happened. I'm sure there are ways around it."

"That's what Jaime said."

"Well, listen to him," urged Margaery, "he's your lobster. He'll be there for you, whatever you need."

"He will," Brienne said gently, her chest warming with the knowledge that it was nothing but the truth, "that's why we've got a plan and are not letting it get us down."

At the mention of a plan, Margaery let go of Brienne's hands, a mischievous smile on her face. "Good! I hope that means more regular sex with him going down you more."

"Margaery!" spluttered Brienne, remembering her conversation with Jaime that morning, "that's not how babies are conceived!"

A wicked grin crossed her face, "yeah, I know, but you've got to do these things for fun sometimes."

Brienne sat up primly, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation. "That is _one _way we are approaching this situation, but we are also going to go to another doctor for a second opinion. Doctor Marwyn was a little... unsympathetic, so trying someone else might be helpful."

"That sounds a good plan," agreed Margaery. "Just make sure Jaime is there with you. You've got to remember that you are in this together, and you should in no way blame yourself. Him being with you will remind you of that."

"Don't worry, he will be."

"Good," said Margaery again, taking a sip of her tea.

There was then a pause caused by the knowledge that Jaime would be there for Brienne if ever she needed him. Knowing Margaery did not have that, Brienne said, "and if you need someone to come to your doctor’s appointment with you, I would always come if you needed me to."

Margaery gave her an affectionate smile. "Thanks babe, but I'm a big girl. Inevitably being told I have a urine infection is really not that big a deal."

* * *

Brienne and Margaery spent several hours chatting in _Biscuits for All Occasions, _meaning that, in the end, they got home quite late. Given it was dark, Brienne was somewhat surprised to discover that Jaime was still out but, taking the opportunity the quiet house afforded, Brienne decided to watch what she wanted on TV for once. When she was in her pyjamas, she sprawled out in front of the TV, flicking between a documentary about Edinburgh and a weird Victorian melodrama about a woman pretending to be a man who fell in love with a boxer. As it was getting late, she decided to message Jaime.

_Brienne: _Do you want me to put some dinner on for you? Can I tempt you with supremely appetizing microwaveable macaroni?

About fifteen minutes later, she got a reply.

_Jaime: _Don't worry about me. I'm still at the pub with Melara and we might grab some food. Love you x

_Fucking great, _thought Brienne bitterly, before reminding herself to put that away along with all the other anxious thoughts.

After the stupidly over-the-top end to the Victorian melodrama, Brienne watched a girly rom-com about miscommunication during a blind date, and only realised how late it was getting when the rom-com finished and then _Zombie Horror Hordes _came on. Not wanting to watch a gory horror film, she turned the TV off and checked her phone. There were still no messages from Jaime.

_Brienne: _Are you on the way back? I'm thinking of going to bed xx

When she did not get a reply in five minutes, Brienne made her way to the bathroom and began to brush her teeth. Just as she was swilling mouthwash, she heard a loud laugh - a girlish, pretty giggle - from outside. Looking through the bathroom's frosted glass window, Brienne could just make out the blurred figures of Jaime and Melara. It was only because they were talking so loudly that Brienne could hear what they were saying.

"I had such a great night, Jaime," began Melara, her voice feminine and pretty. "Thank you for being such an amazing tour guide."

"My pleasure," replied Jaime warmly, "we'll have to do it again sometime."

Brienne felt something twist in her gut. It pulled sharply and made her heart beat faster.

"Oh yes! Maybe you can show me Casterly Rock too! We could go there to relive the good old days."

Brienne knew Jaime did not like talking about his ancestral home. Ever since "the Incident", as he liked to call it, the house had been shut up. It was still technically owned by Tywin, but as Jaime and Tyrion had both been disinherited and Cersei was in prison, nobody quite knew what to do with the place.

"Yeah," he said a little unenthusiastically. "Sounds good. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

Jaime went to head back into the house, but then Melara spoke again. "Don't I get a hug? We are old friends."

Brienne watched her husband's hazy shape moved towards Melara, and for a moment they appeared to be one blur. At the sight, the knot in Brienne's stomach got tighter. Pricking up her ears, Brienne could have sworn the Melara mumbled something, but she could not hear what it was. After that, there was a beat of silence, which made Brienne doubt whether Melara had said anything at all.

However, Jaime then asked a rather surprised question. "Why did you say that?"

Melara laughed, that tripping girly laugh that Brienne already found irritating.

"Oh, for old times' sake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed that. I'm having so much fun with this story, so I hope you are too. If you want a little more background on Melara, Chapter 12 of "Many Flavours of Ice Cream" entitled "First Kiss" gives you a little more insight.
> 
> Next time... Brienne, Jaime, and Melara go and investigate an interesting case...


	5. Pufferfish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne, Jaime, and Melara go to investigate an interesting case involving some missing fish...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! Thanks for staying for the ride, I hope you are enjoying it!
> 
> Now, this chapter gets a little smutty (dominant Brienne style). If you are only here for the murder and mayhem, or it's not your jam, switch off when they get to the pub. You won't miss too much, but you have been warned.

In the week after Melara's arrival, Jaime and Brienne never did get the chance to finish what they started that morning. It was mostly because on the night Jaime came back late from being out at the pub with Melara, Brienne went hurtling into the bedroom and threw herself under the duvet, pretending she was asleep. After seeing his blurred figure embracing his _old friend_, Brienne did not think she would be able to welcome him home and fake she was feeling anything but a roil of jealousy in the pit of her stomach. Consequently, when he came in, Brienne just pretended she was dead to the world while he hovered at their bedroom door, smiling. As she madly pinned her eyes shut, he quietly put on his pyjamas, turned off the bedroom light and got into bed beside her. Shuffling closer, he pressed his chest against her back and moulded his body into hers, brushing a quick kiss onto the nape of her neck in the process.

"Night, wench," he murmured, as he wrapped his shortened right arm around her waist. "Love you."

Brienne just lay still with her eyes closed; if she said anything to him, asked him why he was so late or what the hell he was talking to Melara about, she knew he would just tell her she was being ridiculous.

_And I am being ridiculous, _she thought._This is an anxious thought. After everything I put him through, I can't lose my shit about this. Jaime loves me, I know he does._

It was what she kept repeating to herself every morning when she watched him go off on patrol with Melara, while Brienne had to stay back at the station doing paperwork. She missed the time when her and Jaime had been partners and spent their days on patrol together, chasing shoplifters, stopping onion smuggling rings, and breaking up murderous cults. They had fallen in love on those patrols, he had won her over as they sat in the police car talking about everything and nothing. She couldn't let Melara have the same experience; not that she didn't trust Jaime, it was that she did not know Melara and if they were old friends...

_No, _Brienne told herself. _Changing up the patrol rotas would be giving into these anxious, irrational thoughts. Trusting Jaime is what you should do. _

So, that's what she did. She trusted Jaime, they followed the Baby Making Spreadsheet, and she threw herself into her work.

One day, a week after Melara arrived in Casterly, Brienne took a break from her normal duties to go to an emergency SARC meeting called by Reverend Meribald. Apparently, something very momentous had happened that required the attendance of all members. When she arrived at the church hall, Jorah Mormont, Samwell Tarly, Syrio Forel, Ron Connington, and Aurane Waters were already there, perched on chairs around the table. Reverend Meribald and Taena Merryweather were standing at the front, as if they were about to give a presentation, while Pia was pouring tea for everyone. Only Senelle was missing. When Brienne took her seat, Taena gave her a winning smile.

It slightly unnerved Brienne how much Jaime's ex looked like Melara.

"Thank you everyone for coming at such short notice," beamed Reverend Meribald, looking around at the committee members, "but I am excited to say we have some absolutely brilliant news in terms of our funding raising campaign for St Alysanne's church roof."

"Has someone actually donated some money towards it?" asked Syrio Forel, shocked. So far, they had only raised £76.20.

"Oh," smiled Samwell, "that would be nice."

"Not just _some money,_" grinned the Reverend, "but an absolute fortune!"

At that statement, Taena burst with excitement. "My husband Orton has agreed to donate one hundred thousand pounds towards the Church roof fund!"

Jorah Mormont fell off his chair. Pia nearly poured boiling tea into Sam's lap. Ron Connington exclaimed, "fucking hell!" and immediately apologised to God. Brienne just stared. She couldn't believe it! Who on earth had that kind of money to throw at Casterly's parish church?

"Wow!" she said, at a loss. "I hope we've thanked him on behalf of the committee and Casterly. Is there any way we can send him a card from all of us? Some flowers? Chocolates?"

Reverend Meribald nodded, "I think that would be a very nice statement, but Mr Merryweather has said all he wants is an interview in the _Casterly Citizen_talking about his involvement with Casterly and the community."

Brienne furrowed her brow. "But he lives in Lannisport, doesn't he? I'm not sure I've ever met him, and I'm fairly involved with community events given that I'm Chief Inspector."

Taena's expression suddenly went very dark. "My husband is a very important man. You know he is running for Mayor of Lannisport, don't you? And when he wins, Casterly will fall under his jurisdiction. He wants to be involved with the village community. What's wrong with that?"

"There's nothing wrong with that," said Brienne, holding her hands up. "It's just I'm a little surprised, that's all. I think it's a wonderful thing he's done."

Taena was slightly ameliorated by Brienne's statement. "Good, because I also was going to invite everyone here to the party to kickstart his mayoral campaign, which will be held at Lannis House on Friday. But if you don't want to go..."

"Oh no!" cried Aurane Waters suddenly. "We would love to go. Wouldn't we?"

There was a rumble of agreement and Taena looked thoroughly pleased with herself. "Wonderful. I'll have you all put on the guest list!"

"Can we bring a plus one?" asked Sam. "Gilly would love to come."

"Of course, I'll make sure you all have invites," grinned Taena, supremely proud of herself.

Brienne felt a bit doubtful about that prospect. Jaime and Taena had spent years being on and off again, committed and not-committed, and behind Orton's back. She did not think it was a great idea to bring him along all things considered. Perhaps they should have a conversation about it and decide together.

"Thank you very much, Taena," said Brienne levelly, thinking this was an issue for her and Jaime to discuss. "Will Orton be giving a speech about his plans for Lannisport and Casterly?"

"As far as I know, yes," Taena replied. "He has great ambitions. He will be happy to share his plans with everyone, because they will affect us all."

There was another round of animated chatter at that announcement, but Reverend Meribald held his hands up to recapture their attention. "Now, I know this is all very exciting, but there are practicalities that need to be dealt with. Brienne, Aurane, you are joint treasurers, and we need to arrange the transfer of the money into St Alysanne's account..."

Just then, Brienne's phone rang. The ringtone was ABBA's _My Love, My Life, _instantly telling her it was Jaime, so Brienne signalled her apology to Reverend Meribald by raising her hand and retreating to the corner of the room. She pointed at Aurane, directing Reverend Meribald to explain everything to him. Just as the vicar turned to the businessman, Brienne answered the phone.

"Hello, Jaime," she quietly, "sorry, I'm at this SARC meeting at the moment. What do you want?"

Jaime cleared his throat. "Sorry for interrupting, it's just Melara and I had a call from Wyman Manderly's catering company about some kind of stolen property. The problem is, they are working at Lannis House which straddles the boundary between Casterly and Lannisport jurisdictions, so the security guard won't let two lowly sergeants from Casterly like Melara and I in to actually see what the problem is. Can you come down here and throw your weight around a bit? Apparently, Wyman was sounding a bit panicked on the phone."

Knowing that she really should say no and leave them to sort the problem out, Brienne couldn't help but think that she wanted nothing more than to go on a case with Jaime, so she found herself agreeing in an instant. "Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can. I just need to tell the rest of the committee I'm going to have to sneak out."

"Ah, thanks, wench. I'll see you soon. I love you."

"See you," she replied bluntly, before hanging up.

Crossing the room, Brienne gave Reverend Meribald an awkward smile. "I am really sorry, but something has come up at the station. Can I leave the finance stuff to Aurane? And if anything seriously important comes up, he can let me know?"

Aurane smiled at her, "of course, that would be fine with me."

"Great," said Brienne, relieved. "I'll see you all later."

* * *

When Brienne arrived at Lannis House, it did not take her long to spot Jaime and Melara. It had just started to rain, so they were both huddled together under a tree, talking. Jaime had his arms folded, but Melara was standing close to him, looking up at him with her big eyes and laughing. In spite of herself, Brienne felt another wave of jealousy hit her.

"Oh Jaime," Melara was saying as Brienne approached, "you are so funny. Have you considered a career as a comedian?"

"I think Casterly would miss me," replied Jaime smiling, "you know, I helped take down a murderous cult."

"Did you?" said Melara, as if was the most amazing thing she had ever heard, "oh, you are so brave. Why don't you tell me about it?"

Jaime had just opened his mouth to do so, when Brienne pounced. Bowling into him, she caught him by the shoulders and slammed him back into the tree, so hard that his legs nearly buckled. Not letting him have any respite, Brienne cupped his face with her hands and started kissing him furiously, licking the seam of his mouth until he permitted her entry. After an initial moment of surprise, Jaime decided he was into it. Resting his prosthetic on her hip, he brought his hand up to her face and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, before settling his hand on her cheek.

When they broke apart, Jaime was smiling. "What was that for, wench?"

Normally she would say something affectionate, but instead Brienne went for, "I'm just reminding you of your place."

Jaime blushed as Brienne turned to Melara, who was looking at her with narrowed eyes. "Sorry Melara, I quite forgot you were here. Jaime told me there was some sort of problem with a catering company."

Melara gave her a tight smile. "Oh yes, I'm so glad you've arrived, we will need your help. Wyman Manderly phoned. Apparently, his company is catering for some big swanky party here on Friday night..."

"He must be talking about Orton Merryweather's mayoral campaign launch party," interrupted Brienne.

Jaime furrowed his brow. "How do _you _know about that?"

"Taena just informed us all at the SARC meeting. I have an invite for me and a plus one." Jaime went to say something, but Brienne turned back to Melara. "What is the issue with Wyman?"

"Well, apparently some super expensive delicacy he is using for the party is missing or something? We would already know, but the stupid security guard won't let us in, even though I told him that my horoscope for this week informed me that I would be afforded new opportunities to enter spaces and places I have never been before."

Brienne thought if she was a security guard and had been told that, she would have burst out laughing and told Melara to shove off. Consequently, when she started marching over in the direction of Lannis House, she could not help but feel a little sympathetic towards the poor bloke she was about to bully to let them in. She was halfway through working up her vengeful harpy mood, when Jaime slipped his hand in hers and locked their fingers. In spite of herself, Brienne felt a bubble of warmth in her chest. He didn't let go when they approached the security guard waiting at the door. He was huge, almost as big as the Mountain, with dark skin and a shiny bald head. Immediately noting his name badge, which simply said "Belwas", Brienne gave him what she hoped was a friendly, but authoritative, smile as she shook Jaime's hand away.

"Good afternoon, Mr Belwas, I am Chief Inspector Lannister-Tarth of the Casterly Constabulary."

"Are you?" he asked suspiciously. "Where's your proof?"

Brienne reached into her pocket and pulled out her badge and ID and showed them too him. His expression softened when he read what was in front of him. "I am very sorry to be an inconvenience, but we've had a call about some sort of problem the catering company is having, and it would be a real help if you could let us in."

Belwas shook his head. "I'm very sorry, Inspector Lannister-Tarth, but Orton Merryweather is holding a very important event here on Friday. I can't just let anyone in."

Brienne gave him a sympathetic smile. "I can understand, but we are not anyone, and we do have an important case to deal with."

The security guard thought about it for a moment before sighing. "I'm really sorry. Mr Merryweather has made it quite clear that he will hold me responsible for anything that happens here until Friday."

Considering her options, Brienne said, "well, wouldn't it help if we went inside and fixed this problem the catering company have? It would take one more stress of your shoulders. Also, I am good friends with Mrs Merryweather. If anything goes wrong, I will be able to explain that the buck stops with me."

That Brienne had an 'in' with Taena seemed to be what convinced the security guard in the end, as he nodded and said, "very well. Just make sure you let me know when you are off the property."

"We will be sure to," said Brienne reassuringly, before signalling to Jaime and Melara to follow her inside the house.

Once they were in Lannis House's extravagant baroque hallway, Jaime leaned across to Brienne and teased, "how long have you and my ex been best buds then?"

"Your ex?" asked Melara curiously, "Taena Merryweather is _your _ex? The wife of the man running to be the mayor of Lannisport?"

"Yeah, sucks to be me," joked Jaime, before turning back to Brienne. "So, how long?"

"For thirty seconds, because it was the piece of information that got us inside."

Jaime grinned at her and Brienne thought there was a hint of pride to it. "Wench, has anybody ever told you that you are the best police officer in the world?"

"Not recently, no."

"Well, you are," he said gently, taking her hand again.

Part of her thought about pushing him away - they had a serious case to deal with after all - but then she felt Melara's eyes on their intertwined hands and decided against it.

_Jaime is mine, _Brienne thought possessively.

* * *

It took them a little while to find the kitchen, because Lannis House was so vast and sprawling, but eventually Brienne, Jaime, and Melara found them deep in the basement of the grand old house. When they entered the room, someone was screaming.

"I'LL GET YOU MORE PUMPKIN AND I'LL RAM IT RIGHT UP YOUR FUCKING ARSE!" the very large Head Chef was shouting at a nervous looking underling. "WOULD YOU LIKE IT WHOLE? OR WOULD YOU LIKE IT DICED?"

"I... I... I..."

"GOOOOO!" he bellowed again. "WE ONLY HAVE UNTIL FRIDAY!"

Turning to Jaime and Melara, Brienne could see they both looked a little shocked, so she decided to take the lead. Striding purposefully forward, she came and stood right in front of the Head Chef, fixing him with a determined stare.

"Wyman Manderly?" she asked.

"Yes?"

Brienne got out her badge and ID. "I am Inspector Brienne Lannister-Tarth of the Casterly Constabulary. This is Sergeant Jaime Lannister-Tarth and Sergeant Melara Hetherspoon, and we are here concerning a report of theft?"

As Brienne put her identifiers away, Wyman's face relaxed in relief. "Oh, thank god you are here. We've got a major situation."

"Which is?" asked Brienne, getting out her notebook. Jaime and Melara copied her instantly.

Wiping his sweating brow, Wyman indicated to a quiet space over towards the side of the kitchen to which Brienne, Jaime, and Melara walked, with the Chef waddling behind. Once they were out the direct heat and noise, he told them the story.

"When I came in this morning, I went to check the freezer, to make sure we have all the supplies for the canapes for Orton Merryweather's party on Friday night." The three police officers jotted down everything the Chef was saying. "I had to go out last night to source some foie-gras from Lannisport, so I left my deputy Senelle in charge. I thought everything was in good hands, but when I did a stock check, I discovered all the pufferfish were gone!"

"Pufferfish?" said Jaime curiously. 

"Yes, pufferfish," reiterated Wyman. "Mr Merryweather wanted the canapes to be famous foods from around the world. When I told him about _fugu, _he jumped at the chance."

"Forgive me my ignorance," interjected Brienne, "but what is _fugu?"_

"It's a Japanese delicacy," said Wyman, putting his hands on his hips. "It is essentially pufferfish sushi served in sashimi style. The reason that Mr Merryweather was so excited about the prospect is because a chef must train for years before they are allowed to prepare it. It means that _fugu _is a rare and highly sought after dish."

"Why does it take so long to train to prepare it?" asked Melara, already writing in her notebook.

"Because," began Wyman slowly, as if they were all simpletons, "naturally, the pufferfish contains a poison called _tetrodotoxin _that is lethal to humans. Without the utmost care on the part of the chef, a consumer can die if _fugu_is incorrectly prepared. It also means that pufferfish are intensely expensive to get hold of; that is why I was so angry; the company is set to lose a great deal of money if the pufferfish are not recovered."

The worried look on Wyman Manderly's face made Brienne more determined than ever to get this case solved. "Do not worry, Mr Manderly. Myself, and Sergeants Lannister-Tarth and Hetherspoon will do our utmost to recover your pufferfish. Now, would it be possible to talk to Senelle if she was on duty last night?"

Wyman nodded enthusiastically. "Of course you can. She's not a chef, so she does not really know the importance of the food being prepared, but she is the company's buyer, so she is aware of how much money we are set to lose."

"Do you know where Senelle is?"

"She's in the freezer room," Wyman informed them. "I wanted her to do another stock take, just to check that nothing else is missing. The entrance is just down this corridor on the right."

"Thank you, Mr Manderly," said Brienne. "We will do everything we can to help."

Once they had said their goodbyes to Mr Manderly, Brienne, Jaime, and Melara followed his instructions and headed off down the corridor towards the freezer room. The door was open, and torrents of ice cold air were billowing out, so much so that the three officers were initially reluctant to enter. Hanging back by the door, they could see Senelle inside, who was marching round the big room ticking things off on her clipboard.

"Maybe I should take the lead in this interview," said Jaime smugly.

"Why?" asked Melara, her brows furrowed.

Brienne rolled her eyes. She knew her husband _far _too well. "Just because you had one night stand with Senelle _years _ago, it doesn't mean she's any more likely to talk to you than me or Melara."

Jaime shrugged. "I have charms."

"You do," agreed Melara, smiling.

Trying not to give the new sergeant the death stare, Brienne focussed on Jaime. "You _do _have charms, but in no way am I letting you use them on Senelle."

"Jealous, wench?" teased Jaime.

She tried not to flush red when she replied, "no. Now stop messing around, we've got work to do."

Not wanting to put up with anymore teasing, Brienne strode into the ice cold freezer room, followed by Jaime and Melara. The sound of her footsteps on the hard floor made Senelle turn around, and she eyed Brienne with shock.

"Inspector Lannister-Tarth," said Senelle, blushing. "Are you here about the SARC meeting? I am sorry I couldn't come; it's just we had this major incident at work..."

Brienne raised her hand in a conciliatory gesture. "Don't worry, I'm not here about the SARC meeting. Mr Manderly has just sent me in here to talk to you about the missing pufferfish. Apparently, you were on duty last night."

Senelle's expression suddenly became a little doleful. "I was, but I am sorry to say I wasn't here all evening..."

"No?" asked Brienne intrigued, before writing that detail down. "Where were you?"

To Brienne's surprise, it was not Senelle who answered, but Melara. "She was at _Lannisters _Supermarket."

Both Brienne and Jaime snapped their heads around to look at their colleague at the same time. "How do you know that?" asked Brienne a little tersely.

Melara shrugged her shoulders. "We bumped into each other for the queue for the till, didn't we Senelle? You told me about the massive stock take you were doing - pufferfish, foie-gras, caviar - when you realised that the cheeseboard was missing camembert, so you rushed out to get some, correct?"

When Brienne and Jaime turned back to Senelle, she was nodding. "Correct. But _Lannisters _didn't have any, so I had to drive around loads of the supermarkets in the local area until I found some. I was probably gone for about two hours."

Brienne wrote that down. "Did you notice the pufferfish were missing when you returned?"

Senelle shook her head. "No, I didn't, but to be honest I wasn't being very observant. I arrived back here with the camembert about midnight and immediately locked up and went home. I was so tired. It was only when I came in this morning and Wyman started shouting at me that I realised anything was wrong."

"Was anyone else here last night?" asked Brienne, "other staff members? Members of the security team? Visitors?"

Senelle shook her head. "Not that I know of. All my colleagues went home after I volunteered to find the camembert. I was also the second person here this morning, after Wyman."

Nodding, Brienne finished writing down everything Senelle had said before closing the notebook. "Well, thank you for your help, Ms Jones. It's good to see you are now such an upstanding member of the community."

Senelle blushed. Even though it had been three years since the incident with the murderous cult, she was still clearly trying to work through her small involvement with it. "Thank you, Brienne," she said, her voice shaking. "I am trying, honestly. I really am."

"Good," smiled Brienne warmly. "We will do our utmost to find out what happened with the pufferfish. I think it's probably best if we leave you to your stock take now."

Senelle nodded gratefully. "Thank you. If you need any more assistance, you know where I am."

At the conclusion of the interview, Brienne, Jaime, and Melara left the freezer room and went back out into the hallway to compare notes. Jaime put his notebook back in his jacket pocket before turning to Brienne. "So, what do we do now?"

"Well," began Brienne, thinking carefully. "As there are no obvious suspects at this point and seemingly no witnesses, with both Senelle and Wyman having been out last night, I think the best course of events is to get the CCTV from Lannis House, to see if it caught anyone breaking in last night."

Melara looked a little pale as she said, "but don't you think that would be quite difficult? Belwas was very reluctant to let us in, after all. I can't imagine he'll jump at the chance to give us the CCTV footage."

"True," concurred Brienne. "But there are ways and means. We will have to apply for a warrant to see the security footage. After we've registered the offence, I can process all that paperwork."

"Sounds a good plan," said Jaime, quickly looking at his watch, "but shall I tell you what a better plan is?"

"What?" replied Brienne.

"Going to _The Inn at the Crossroads. _It's nearly the end of the day, we might as well call it quits. I promised the Hound and the others that we'd go for drinks."

Brienne felt a little uneasy about that idea. "It sounds fun, but we need to register this offence first."

Jaime shrugged, "it could wait until the morning."

"No," said Brienne firmly, "it couldn't." Even after all these years of working together, she knew that Jaime could never resist skiving off five minutes early to go to the pub.

"I think there is a simple solution to all this," Melara said brightly.

Both Jaime and Brienne turned to look at her. "Is there?" asked Jaime bemusedly.

"Yes," grinned Melara. "We have two police cars. Why doesn't Brienne go back to the station and, as she conducted most of the interviews, input the case's details into the system. Me and you could go to _The Inn, _Jaime, and meet the others. How does that sound?"

Brienne was about to say it was the worst fucking plan she had ever heard, and she would sooner stuff the case than let her husband swan off to the pub with _Melara Hetherspoon _of all people, but Jaime spoke first. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Don't you agree super cop?"

He was looking at Brienne with such an air of reasonableness that she felt she could not say no. "Alright, I'll see you at _The Inn _once I've finished the paperwork."

"Don't be too late, Brienne," smiled Melara, her dark eyes sparkling, "or I will be forced to keep your lovely husband all to myself all evening, which would just be a _tragedy._"

* * *

When inputting the case of the missing pufferfish into the system, Brienne was so angry that she nearly broke her keyboard with how furiously she was smashing the buttons.

_...Or I will be forced to keep your lovely husband all to myself all evening..._

Brienne kept torturing herself with the Melara's words over and over again, so much so that she was sure she put some erroneous dates and times in concerning what had happened up at Lannis House. But for once, Brienne didn't care, because she could sense the way that Melara was trying to get her pretty little claws into Jaime, how she was trying to...

_No, _Brienne reminded herself, _this is an irrational thought. Melara is just being nice and, even if she weren't, it doesn't matter because Jaime loves me._

Even though she kept trying to tell herself that, she was still in a foul mood by the time she rocked up at _The Inn at the Crossroads _an hour later than anyone else, trying not to scowl at Melara the second she saw her. As expected, the whole Constabulary were there - the Robbs, Margaery, the Hound, Ilyn, Jon, Pod, and of course Jaime and Melara - but there were also some additional guests. Tyrion and Shae were seated over in a corner together, discussing the latest events at the Armoury Museum with Sansa, who had her arm around the Hound. Bronn had also appeared and was demonstrating a card trick to Robb Arryn. Pia was also seemingly skiving off her duties at the bar to talk to Pod, who was the colour of a sundried tomato.

And of course, Jaime and Melara were sitting together. Melara was doing her ridiculous, over-the-top girlish giggle at whatever Jaime was saying, and he genuinely looked as if he appreciated the attention. Not wanting to look at the spectacle, Brienne made to move to sit next to Margaery, but then saw she was having yet another whispered conversation with Robb Stark, so decided against it. Eventually, the decision was made for her when Jaime called out to her.

"Hey, wench! You are here! I saved you a seat!"

In spite of the fact that Jaime was grinning at her broadly, Brienne felt a little sour towards him, so she did not know whether she really wanted to sit with him. However, not wanting to make a scene, Brienne went and perched on the seat beside him and let him give her a quick kiss.

"I got you a cranberry juice," he said, pointing to the drink on the table. For the first time in her life, Brienne felt like she wanted something stronger. "Was everything alright with the paperwork?"

"Fine," she said tersely, picking up the cranberry juice and taking a sip.

Jaime's expression softened. "Is everything alright with _you_?"

"Never better."

Turning away from him, she tried to join the conversation that Bronn and Robb Arryn were having on her other side about card tricks and gambling, but her attention was repeatedly drawn back to Jaime and Melara because the latter's voice was so bloody irritating.

"Oh Jaime, do you remember that time you, Cersei, and I went swimming in the God's Eye when we were teenagers? I nearly lost my bikini top!"

"I am so free and easy when I've have too many beers, and I'm well on the way now!"

"My horoscope said that love was on the horizon for me this month. Do you believe in horoscopes, Jaime?"

Eventually, Brienne had had enough. Melara was blatantly trying to piss on her patch, and the Chief Inspector decided she wasn't going to have any of it, because she was a motherfucking badass and Jaime was _hers. _Staking her claim, Brienne brought her hand down firmly on her husband's thigh, so much so there was an almighty slapping sound.

"Ow!" chastised Jaime, before lifting his own hand and locking his fingers with hers. "If you want to hold my hand, you just have to say so."

"I don't want to hold your hand," said Brienne brusquely, batting him away. "I want to do _this_."

Not caring if Melara or the whole of the Casterly Constabulary saw, Brienne moved her hand from the top of Jaime's leg to his inner thigh and began to run it up and down suggestively. When she got dangerously close to his crotch, he let out a little gasp. "Brienne..."

"What?" she hissed, keeping her voice low. "You are _my _husband. If I want to turn you on in a pub, I will bloody well turn you on in a pub."

Jaime flushed furiously and glanced around quickly to make sure no one had noticed what they were doing, before leaning close so he could whisper in her ear. "You could turn me on at home, if you want. We could take a break from the spreadsheet, and just enjoy each other for once."

"No," snapped Brienne, suddenly irritated by his constant desire to not follow the spreadsheet.

"No?" replied Jaime, a little confused. "Don't you want...?"

"Not unless you beg." This kind of powerplay was not normally a part of their sexual relationship - it was usually more teasing, flirty, fun - but because of Melara, Brienne suddenly had the urge to be reminded of how much Jaime wanted her.

"Beg?"

Continuing to run her hand along his leg, Brienne turned to face him and for the first time noticed that Melara was watching them with wide eyes. It made her braver than she usually was. "Yes. I want you to beg for it. Right here. Right now."

Jaime took in a shuddering breath, before leaning in close, his warm breath brushing her neck. With his mouth against Brienne's ear, he whispered to her so quietly that she knew it was only for her to hear. "Take me home and fuck me. Please."

"Get your coat," Brienne said authoritatively as she got to her feet, not caring that Melara was shooting her daggers or that she had to abandon her cranberry juice. Turning to the others, Brienne gave them a tight smile. "I am taking my husband home. I'll see you all at work tomorrow."

She tried to ignore them as they all started laughing, especially as Bronn let out an over the top, "oooooooh! Be gentle with him Chief Inspector!"

Brienne couldn't promise that.

By the time they got through their front door, Brienne had already managed to half-unbutton Jaime's shirt, and he had mussed up her hair. For the first time since they started sleeping together, Brienne thought this well and truly felt like a battle; she did not care if she bit his lip too hard or pulled his hair too tight, or if she pushed him a little too forcefully. She did not even care when she was heavy-handed in taking his prosthetic off, which made him hiss in pain.

"Brienne, be careful..."

She silenced him with a kiss.

They never made it to the bedroom, as Brienne was so entirely committed to making sure he was entirely hers that she rugby tackled him to the ground when she had got him totally naked. He tried to sit up and kiss her, but she pushed him back to the ground with all her weight on his shoulders.

"You owe me to finish what you started."

He bit his lip while smiling at her, his eyes bright with want. "Yes, I think I do."

Not wasting a moment, she shuffled up his body and straddled his head, grasping his hair firmly in her hands as she did so. Jaime didn't need directing - he knew what she liked, so he began kissing, licking, sucking, blowing, to make her hot and ready for him. Every time she let out a little groan of satisfaction, he responded in kind, and soon they were having a conversation entirely of animalistic groans, his tongue, and her pleasure.

Likewise, her thoughts became nothing but the articulation of the most primal urges.

_Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine._

Once he had brought her off - quickly and skilfully and with her moaning his name - Brienne did not give him any respite, but merely moved down his body, put his painfully erect cock inside her, and rode him until he saw stars.

"Brienne, my love..." he kept groaning, "Brienne, oh, Brienne..."

He tried to sit up to kiss her. She slammed him back down.

_Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine._

Those thoughts were still going around her head when Jaime came, drunk on her and lost to pleasure. With a final cry that was wrapped in her name, Jaime's eyes rolled back into his head as he almost passed out from pleasure, still quivering with the effort of his release. Brienne had seen Jaime have orgasms like this before, and usually she would hold him through them, kissing his forehead and telling him how much she loved him until he was restful and calm once more. This time, however, she felt she did not want the responsibility. Getting off him, Brienne left him lying on the floor next to the sofa, and without looking at him once, she crossed the room and headed to the bathroom. She knew he would ask her questions about this sudden change of behaviour, but that was for later. Now, she just wanted to get clean, because for the first time Brienne felt there had been someone else in their bed other than her and Jaime.

She hoped the cool shower would help calm her down, but the tears were spilling down her cheeks before she could stop them.

_These are irrational thoughts, _she told herself. _Jaime loves me. Jaime loves me._

Wanting to cheer herself up, she used one of her expensive shampoos that Jaime had bought her for her birthday which she only used on special occasions. Brienne had just started lathering it into her hair, when there was a knock at the door.

"Brienne?" came Jaime's voice. "Have you locked the bathroom door?"

They never locked the bathroom door. Trying to keep her composure, Brienne said, "yeah. I'm just having a shower."

There was a pause on the other side of the door. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she lied. "I'll only be two minutes."

When she emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, Jaime was waiting for her, naked and beautiful, with a concerned expression on his face. Leaning in to kiss her, he said, "is everything alright, my love? That was _great _and everything, but... a bit different from what we usually do. What brought it on? Do you want to talk?"

Brienne put her hand on his chest and pushed him back before he could kiss her. "I'm fine. I'm just tired. You need a shower."

He looked at her imploringly, "but Brienne..."

"Just have a shower. We'll talk later."

Without another word, she left him standing outside the bathroom and retreated to their bedroom. Slipping into her pyjamas as quickly as she could, Brienne got into bed and curled up tight, not wanting him to see her cry.

_I let it get to me, _she thought sadly. _The irrational thoughts. I let them poison that moment with Jaime. It wasn't about me and him. It was about her._

Even though she was capable of holding back her tears, Brienne could not stop her thoughts whirring round and round her head.

_I wonder if Melara could give him a baby. Would he be happier with her? He smiles when he talks to her, when she laughs at his jokes..._

Her mind was still on Jaime and Melara when he reappeared in their bedroom. She closed her eyes so that she did not have to talk to him and, consequently, he got into his pyjamas in almost silence. He only spoke once he slid into bed beside her.

"Brienne," he murmured. When she did not immediately reply, he added, "I know you are awake."

"So?"

His voice was achingly tender. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. Just go to sleep."

_These are irrational thoughts. Irrational thoughts..._

He took a deep breath before saying, "do you want...? Can you...?"

"What?"

His fingers brushed her shoulder as he found the courage. "Can I be the Little Spoon tonight? I need you to hold me... after that."

Brienne did not think she was capable of it. She didn't want to poison things even more. "I'm tired, Jaime. Just go to sleep."

"I'm not asking anything of you," he said gently. "I just want to go to sleep in your arms."

She didn't reply; she didn't have the words. Her silence made Jaime realise he would not get what he had asked for, so he decided to do the next best thing. Pushing himself up against her, his front to her back, he slung his arm around her waist, pulling her close.

"You know, wench, if you ever need to talk, I'm here."

Brienne didn't say anything, but just madly pinned her eyes shut, wishing that Melara's gloating face would go away. As she remained quiet, Jaime lifted one of his legs over her hip, encircling her with his body, before resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I love you, Brienne. Never forget that."

She didn't say it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, we are well and truly into the meat of the story now, so I hope you are enjoying it. The angst is already here, and I hope you don't think it is too much! I would love to hear from you in the form of comments or kudos (although I am reading them, I may take some time to reply as am super busy this weekend, and want to reply eloquently)!
> 
> Next chapter... Brienne takes on the case of the missing pufferfish alone, by going to see Orton Merryweather...
> 
> PS. And yes, that was a Gordon Ramsay quote, what of it? :D


	6. Marital Woes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne goes to investigate the case of the missing pufferfish...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for coming back once again! I am really enjoying writing this story, and I hope you enjoying reading it! If you are, please consider leaving comments and kudos.
> 
> Once again, this chapter gets a tiny bit smutty. If that's not your thing, skip the section where they are at home!

When she woke up the following morning, Brienne was surprised to find Jaime was not in their bed. Instead she was greeted by a messy handwritten note that was left on his pillow.

_Brienne, _

_I've just popped out for some supplies. I'll see you at work. _

_Jaime xxxxx_

In his absence, she showered and had breakfast alone, before having a quick snuggle with their cat Shadow. The black cat sat in her lap and looked up at her with her big eyes, silently questioning. For the first time since Melara's arrival, Brienne felt she could speak to someone about what was going on in her head.

"What do you think, Shadow? Do you think Jaime is with Melara right now?"

Shadow fixed her with a stare that looked right into Brienne's soul.

"Miaow."

"Yeah, I know," mumbled Brienne, hugging her cat. "Irrational thoughts."

Once she had showered and got dressed, she walked to work alone, listening to Beyoncé on her phone, who was helpfully reminding her she was a badass bitch who could deal with anything life threw at her. When she arrived at the station, Brienne was gratified to discover she was one of the first to arrive for the morning, apart from Jon. Brienne had already decided that she was going to spend the day at Lannis House, trying to see if she could discover any more leads in the case of the missing pufferfish. To prepare, she planned to go straight to her office and do some reconnaissance on the local area before heading out. However, that plan was quickly derailed by the person she found waiting for her inside her office.

"Jaime?" said Brienne baffled, when she saw he was leaning on her desk with a bunch of daffodils in his hand. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled at her gently. "Waiting for my wench. I got you some flowers."

Extending his arms out, he handed the bunch of daffodils to her, and Brienne couldn't help but blush. When he had originally declared his love for her, he had given her daffodils in this very office, so in Brienne was suddenly taken back to that moment. Instantly heart warmed, she knew this was nothing but a symbol of their love. As Brienne took the flowers from Jaime, she felt her eyes fill with tears, and he lifted his hand to stroke her cheek when they began to fall. "Consider yourself wooed, wench," he whispered, in echo of what he had said all those years ago.

Brienne was smiling as she leant forward to kiss him, with all the tenderness that had been absent the night before. "What brought this on?" she asked, genuinely baffled, as he stepped back to reveal he had also bought her coffee and a croissant.

"I don't know," shrugged Jaime, "I just sensed you were a bit down and might need a little pick-me-up. So, don't cry. Just have some breakfast with me."

Nodding her agreement, Brienne went to put the flowers in a vase, while Jaime laid a napkin out on desk to avoid crumbs. Once everything was set up, Jaime sat in the Chief Inspector's swivel chair and Brienne perched on his lap, only for him to pull her forcefully against him and encourage her to put all her weight on him.

"I'm strong enough," he smiled, before turning her face towards his for a kiss.

When they broke apart, Brienne could only grin. "Did you do all this while I was asleep?"

"Yeah," confirmed Jaime, picking up one of the croissants and taking a bite. "I didn't want you to wake up thinking you couldn't talk to me if you need to. I'm your husband. I just wanted you to know I'm here and... seeing as I couldn't seem to get that across to you last night, I thought I'd try the flowers and food approach."

Brienne's chest tightened with how much she loved him, and the feeling took away some of the tension that had riven her ever since she had heard the news about her fertility from Doctor Marwyn. "You did this all for me?" she asked gently, even though she knew the answer.

"Of course," he grinned. "You and... well... I got a text from Tyrion reminding me that, apparently, months ago I agreed that we would go for dinner round his and Shae's tonight, and I totally forgot to tell you. I wanted to avoid being skinned alive. We haven't got anything in the diary, have we?"

Brienne rolled her eyes, knowing fully well what he was like, before taking a bite of his croissant in punishment. "No, the diary is all clear."

"Good," responded Jaime, laughing. "It might be nice to go out for dinner. Shae wants it to be a couples thing; Sansa and the Hound, and Margaery and Robb are going as well, I think."

"Sounds fun, it will be nice to see everyone."

"It will be," replied Jaime, resting his head on the side of her shoulder. "Now, while I've got you here, I just want to let you know that if you want to explain what exactly last night was about, I'm all ears."

Brienne felt herself stiffen. He would think her so stupid, so jealous and petty. Yet she thought that Jaime would listen, as he was rubbing her back and looking up at her with such utmost sincerity and, consequently, she felt herself talking almost in spite of herself. She had kept her feelings caged like a singing bird, and just needed to work open the lock. After eating a few bites of croissant, Brienne started to try to explain. "Ever since the diagnosis from Doctor Marwyn..."

"Chief, have you seen Jaime?... Oh."

The second Melara entered the room, the door to the cage swung shut. Brienne felt herself going horribly red, mainly because she felt that Melara had just intruded on something intensely personal that was only between herself and Jaime. Not wanting Melara to have a window into that interior world, Brienne leapt off Jaime's lap and tried to appear every inch the Chief Inspector, the woman who belonged in this office, as opposed to Jaime's wife. She wasn't going to let herself feel undermined by Melara of all people.

Flicking his eyes from Brienne to Melara and back again, Jaime got up from the chair and took Brienne's hand. "I'm here with my wench," he smiled, squeezing her fingers. "What can I do for you, Melara?"

If Brienne were a particularly perceptive person, she would have thought that, for a split second, Melara's expression was nothing but thunderous. However, the storm quickly passed, and she gave Jaime a sweet smile. "Jaime, Jon's just told me that we've had a call from Donella Hornwood. Apparently, a family heirloom, a diamond encrusted moose-shaped broach, was stolen. She was holding a party for local businessmen last night, and she thinks it was swiped then. As Margaery is currently throwing up in the toilets, I think it might be helpful if you and I go to check it out, lion cub."

_Lion cub?_

Brienne dropped Jaime's hand, as if it had burnt her. "Lion cub?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level.

Jaime gave her a breezy smile, as if this wasn't a big deal, "it's just a joke."

"What joke is that, then?" questioned Brienne, wondering whether there was any way she could get away with having Melara framed for a crime she did not commit.

Melara let out one of her pretty, simpering, _annoying _laughs before she said, "oh, it's an inside one between Jaime and I. We haven't really got time to explain it - Donella needs us, after all."

Brienne turned from Jaime to look at Melara and was surprised to find that she wasn't looking at her _lion cub _but at Brienne herself. Melara's gaze was superficially friendly, but Brienne sensed there was something steely underneath. She had to use all her self-control not to shout at her and call her a _fucking homewrecking bitch _or give her the middle finger. Jaime seemed not to sense the tension at all.

"Okay, we better get going," he said casually, before turning around and giving Brienne a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll see you later, wench. We should have time to finish our chat before we go to Tyrion and Shae's tonight."

"Mmmm," replied Brienne, suddenly not feeling particularly talkative at all.

Jaime then walked across the room towards Melara, who fixed him with a bright, inviting smile. "Oh," she said, halting him by putting a hand on his shoulder. "I like the aftershave you are wearing, it's very manly."

"Thanks," replied Jaime cheerfully. "Brienne got it for me for Christmas."

"It suits you," she beamed, not letting go of Jaime's shoulder. With her hand still on Jaime, Melara shot a glance at Brienne. "We'll see you later, Chief."

If looks could kill, the stare Brienne gave Melara would have made Casterly's new sergeant spontaneously combust.

* * *

Trying not to think of Melara and her _lion cub, _Brienne decided to drive to Lannis House and scout out the area. There was nothing that could distract her just like an interesting case, after all. Armed with her camera, once she made it to Lannis House's front doors, she persuaded Belwas to let her in and then proceeded to explore the building, trying to map all entrance and exit routes, and narrowing down the window of time the thief would have had to break into the house. She also checked where the security cameras were, to see if any of them were conveniently placed to catch the intruder. As there was only one on the level of the kitchens, she made a note to apply for access to the footage, before going upstairs to check out other potential routes of escape.

She was examining one of the big windows on the second floor when she heard a door slam several rooms away, followed by a loud, angry voice.

"Don't fucking lie to me, I know you've been screwing her."

During her time in Casterly, Brienne had not had many conversations with Taena Merryweather, but enough to recognise her voice. She had never heard it so sharp and hate-filled before, though.

"My darling..."

"Don't you _my darling _me, Orton. I _know _you've been cheating on me!"

"You are just being irrational..."

"I am not!" screamed Taena, almost high enough to break glass. "You know I drove to that hotel in Lannisport, don't you? I saw you coming out in the early hours with her! Don't even try to deny it! I know what infidelity looks like!"

Brienne had never met Orton Merryweather in polite company before, but she assumed that if he was ever apoplectic with rage, this is what he would sound like. "Of course you would! You spent years fucking that police officer of yours behind my back!"

Brienne's heart sank. She knew he was talking about Jaime, the Jaime that he had been before he had met Brienne Tarth. All in all, everything that Jaime had told her about his ex-girlfriend made Brienne think it was not the healthiest relationships, yet, right now, she did not want to be inundated with even more mental images of him with other women.

_Jaime and Taena. Jaime and Senelle. Jaime and Pia. Jaime and Melara..._

"Don't bring that up!" she shouted. "You divorced me for that, and look, here we are, married again! This is entirely on you! Why can't you think about me for once? Or about our son? Why must it always be about that hooker?"

Orton's voice went momentarily softer. "I do think about you and Russell, I _do._"

"Well break it off with her then!"

Orton groaned. "It's not that simple."

"It _is _that simple. I am your wife, and she is nothing but a cheap slut!"

"Taena..."

With her next statement, Brienne could almost hear the way Taena was pulling herself up to her full height. "If I went to the _Casterly Citizen _with this, it would be explosive. Your mayoral campaign would be over."

"You wouldn't."

"I _would,_" spat Taena. "I'd go to the papers, divorce you, and take you for everything you've got, you bastard. So if I were you, Orton, I would get rid of that tramp, and realise where your loyalties lie!"

Suddenly, the door leading into the hallway just in front of Brienne burst open, and out came Taena, looking every inch a woman scorned. After shooting Brienne an angry look, she turned and headed for the stairs, just as Orton appeared at the doorway.

"Taena, I..."

"Leave me alone!" shouted Taena, running away from him. Orton and Brienne stayed fixed to their respective positions on the landing as they watched Taena hurtle down the stairs, march across the entrance hall, and out of Lannis House's old oak front door. It slammed shut with a resounding bang.

As the sound slowly dissipated, Brienne turned to look at Orton. At first glance, he did not look like the type of man that Taena, a woman who had once bedded Jaime Lannister, would take for a husband. He was short and a little portly, with tiny eyes that seemed to be searching for something just beyond the horizon. Yet, he wore an expensive suit and gold _Rolex _that Brienne thought might have attracted the famously superficial Taena.

While Brienne was mulling on his appearance, Orton gave her a tight smile. "Ah, Chief Inspector Lannister-Tarth, I presume."

"Yes," Brienne replied, reaching out to shake his hand. He had a rather weak grip. "That's me. And you must be Orton Merryweather."

When Orton let go of her hand, he relaxed and gave her a smile worthy of any second-rate politician. "I suppose a thanks is in order."

"For what?" asked Brienne confusedly.

"I should thank you for keeping your rat of a husband away from my wife. He spent years sniffing after her, asking her to leave me, and generally being a vile little creep. It's nice to know he's been reformed with a good woman's love."

Brienne's heart was beating so loud she was surprised Orton couldn't hear it. Ever since she had known Jaime, Brienne had only looked at the man in front of her who was nothing but kind, generous, and loving. They had talked about Jaime's relationship with Taena, yes, but it had always been through his eyes; that Taena had kept him hanging on a string while she maybe, possibly, perhaps thought about leaving her husband. In contrast, from Orton's perspective, Jaime had always been a nasty little homewrecker, unafraid to take something when he really wanted it.

The thought made Brienne feel quite sick.

"Yes," said Brienne dazedly, not able to say anything else. Not wanting to talk to Orton a second more, she turned in the direction of the stairs and made to follow Taena out of the house.

"Wait!" cried Orton, reaching out to catch Brienne's arm.

"What?"

The prospective Mayor of Lannisport suddenly looked very nervous. "You didn't hear any of that, did you?"

The honest, forthright part of Brienne wanted to tell him the truth and say that she had heard the whole thing. However, a small voice in her head that sounded remarkably like Margaery told her to use her social smarts and claim ignorance. It would avoid a lot of trouble that way.

"No, I didn't hear a thing," lied Brienne, hoping her face was saying the same thing as her voice.

Relief quickly washed over Orton's features. "Well, as thanks for _not hearing anything, _I would like to invite the entirety of the Casterly Constabulary and their plus ones to the party to launch my mayoral campaign this Friday night, here at Lannis House. Eight o'clock. Black tie."

"Oh, Mr Merryweather, that won't be necessary..."

"I insist," he grinned, momentarily pulling an expression that would have fit a campaign poster. "It pays to have friends in high places."

* * *

At the end of the day, Brienne made her way back to the station, feeling like a cartoon character with a raincloud over her head. Ever since her conversation with Orton, all she could think of was Jaime with Taena, Jaime with Pia, Jaime with Senelle. She knew about all his past relationships but, somehow, in the last few weeks they seemed closer than they ever had before. Making her way to the staff room, Brienne hovered by the door when she saw that Robb Arryn had brought in a huge box of cupcakes to celebrate his birthday, and everyone was tucking in. Robb Stark was holding out one for Margaery, but she shook her head, looking a bit pale.

"I wouldn't be able to keep it down," she said. "I was throwing up all morning."

"That's just what I wanted to here as I was _eating," _scolded the Hound.

Robb Stark shrugged. "Okay, more for me then."

Although Robb and Margaery then started bickering about fair cupcake division, it wasn't them that had caught Brienne's attention. It was Jaime and Melara.

"Mmmm," hummed Melara, taking a tiny bite of a chocolate cupcake. "This one is delicious! Thanks for this Robb!"

"My pleasure," said Robb Arryn, holding the box of cakes out to Ilyn.

"Have you tried this one, Jaime?" Melara asked, her eyelashes fluttering.

"No," said Jaime casually. "I'm going out for dinner with Brienne tonight. I don't want to ruin my appetite."

Melara's eyes dropped to his lips as she held up her own cupcake before him, like Eve with the Forbidden Fruit. "Come on, just one bite."

"Honestly, Melara, I'm not..."

She pouted; her dark eyes wide. "For me? Pretty please?"

Jaime rolled his eyes. "Alright. Just one bite."

He went to take the cupcake from her, but Melara lifted it up towards him, temptingly. Once it was too close to his face to refuse, Jaime bit into it, the chocolate icing smearing his mouth as Melara licked her lips. At the sight of such an obvious attempt at flirtation, Brienne saw red. Not waiting a moment longer, she marched into the staff room, almost taking the door off its hinges as she did so.

"Alright Chief," admonished Robb Stark, "be careful! We've already had to pay out for the radios, we don't want the glass door smashed either!"

However, Brienne barely heard him, as she was too busy training her eyes on Jaime. He just smiled at her brightly. "Oh, wench, you're here! We should probably think about heading home; I want to get changed before going to Tyrion's tonight..."

Jaime quickly stopped talking when she grabbed him by the collar and smashed her lips against his. The only sound he made was a shocked little mewl as she stuck her tongue down his throat, finding he tasted of chocolate cupcake and _him_. When they broke apart, the whole Constabulary was silent and staring at them.

_Perfect, _thought Brienne. _I have an audience._

"When we get home," she declared, "you are going to get down on your knees and eat something much more to your taste than a chocolate cupcake."

Jaime went so fabulously red that Brienne felt she had won a small victory. "Brienne, I..."

Not wanting to get into a debate with him, Brienne announced, "we need to go now, we've got to go to Tyrion's, remember?"

Jaime gazed at her for a few moments, as if searching for something in her expression, before gently putting his hand on her wrist and removing it from his collar. "Okay, just let me get my things."

Nodding stiffly, Brienne let him go off into the cloakroom in search of his belongings. Aware that everyone was still watching her, she turned to Melara, who had gone as pale as snow. Trying not to laugh, Brienne gave her a smug look. "I'll see you tomorrow, Melara. I'd advise you not to play this game, if I were you, because I'll always win."

At such open provocation, Melara recovered herself and gave Brienne an innocent look. "Chief, I don't know what you are talking about."

To Brienne's horror, there was a mumble of agreement at that from her colleagues.

"I'm not sure what Melara has done," interrupted Robb Arryn. "We were all just eating cupcakes, I thought I was just being nice by bringing them in for my birthday..."

"It was a _very _nice thing," said Melara, sickly sweet. "You've all made me feel so welcome here during my first week."

The Hound let out a gruff laugh. "You're one of the team now, Melara. It's our job to make you feel welcome."

The Hound's out of character friendliness made Brienne so angry she was of a mind to fire the everybody in the room and start afresh, but she was stopped by the fact that Jaime had reappeared wearing his coat. While the rest of the team were all chatting to Melara about how well she had been settling in, Jaime slipped past them all and took Brienne's hand. His expression was gentle, which only enraged her more.

"Come on, let's go home."

Brienne was determined to make the short journey from the station without saying a word to her husband but, unfortunately, Jaime had other ideas. He looked at her concernedly with those big green eyes of his, and tried to start searching his way through what he thought was going on by talking... and talking... and talking...

"I appreciate that you might be wanting to try something a bit different at the moment, considering the spreadsheet is sucking out some of the spontaneity from our sex life, but I wish you would _talk _to me if you want to try something a little... kinkier, if only to avoid the scene back at the station."

"There wasn't a _scene _back at the station," snapped Brienne.

"Okay," said Jaime levelly, attempting to keep the peace, "but even so, I wish you would speak to me. There are two of us in this relationship, Brienne, and if your desires have changed, or you want to try something new, _tell me. _I'll probably be only too happy to oblige."

_Or you'll be happy to oblige Melara, _Brienne thought bitterly.

By the time they got home, Jaime had spoken so incessantly about the importance of communication and working through their problems together that Brienne just wanted him to shut up, because after the day's events, everything that came out of his mouth just felt so false. Therefore, when they were alone in their bedroom and he started asking questions about she thought he should wear to Tyrion and Shae's, Brienne couldn't take any more and just marched up to him, ripping his shirt off with quick, deft hands.

"Not this. Sit down on the bed."

Jaime did as he was told but continued to look at her wearily. "Brienne, what...?"

Without saying a word, Brienne knelt down between his legs and undid his flies. She was gratified to find he was half hard. "Oh," she said breezily, freeing his cock from his boxers and taking it in her hand, "you like the new me, then?"

He went bright red and bit his lip, trying to find the words. "Yes, but that's not..."

_Shut up Jaime, _Brienne thought as she put his cock in her mouth. _Shut the fuck up._

It didn't take long to reduce her husband to an incoherent mess of moans and cries. Brienne had been with Jaime long enough to know that the correct application of the tongue and endless enthusiasm was enough to send him over the edge in a matter of minutes, and this time was no different. When she felt the familiar twitch of his hips that told her he was about to come, she stopped sucking him off and took him in hand, giving him a few, firm rubs that sent him spilling onto his stomach. Having collapsed back on the bed, Jaime was floating in bliss with his eyes closed, not fully conscious of his wife getting to her feet. Any other time, Brienne would have thought the sight enchantingly beautiful, but considering the day she had had, she just felt irritated. She tapped his face a few times to get his attention, and once he opened his eyes, Brienne looked at him firmly.

"Go and clean yourself up, we've got to go out soon."

* * *

In the taxi on the way to Tyrion and Shae's, Jaime initially tried to provoke her into conversation, but when she just kept staring at her phone, he eventually gave up. At first, Brienne was playing _Solitaire, _but then Margaery messaged her, so she then at least had something more interesting to do.

_Margaery: _Apologise to Shae and Tyrion for me. I'm really not feeling well, so won't be coming tonight. Robb's going to look after me too, so tell them not to expect him either.

_Brienne: _Oh no! I hope you feel better soon! And yes, I'll let Shae and Tyrion know.

_Margaery: _Thanks babe! You're the best.

There was a momentary pause before Margaery sent another message.

_Margaery: _Is everything alright with you?

_No, _Brienne wanted to say. _I feel my husband is slipping away from me and I don't know what to do about it._

_Brienne: _Yeah, everything is fine. Why do you ask?

Margaery replied in an instant.

_Margaery: _Because Melara Hetherspoon is an utter cow and I wouldn't blame you if you were considering hiring a hitman.

Brienne spluttered with laughter. As it was the first bit of positive emotion Brienne had shown all evening so, Jaime sensed his chance and tried to edge closer to her on the back seat of the taxi, wearing an intrigued smile on his face. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, Margaery just sent me meme that's all. You won't get it."

Jaime's grin grew larger, "what? Because I'm old?"

"Something like that."

She went back to her messaging.

_Brienne: _Thank fuck! I thought everyone on the team was totally up her arse.

_Margaery: _The rest of the team are all blind because they are men and she flutters her eyelashes at them like butter wouldn't melt. But we see it. Melara _is _trying to play a game, and you were 100% in the right to mark out your territory. Just next time... perhaps you should go for something a little more subtle.

Brienne felt a wave of relief wash over her. At least _someone _was seeing what she saw.

_Brienne: _Thank god you've noticed!!! I thought I was going mad! But how can I be more subtle when she is just all over him?

A few seconds past before Brienne got a response.

_Margaery: _I don't know, but we have to play this carefully, otherwise Jaime will think you are being needlessly jealous or a bitch to his new police partner. There are more pieces in this game than just you and her.

_Brienne: _Do you think I should talk to Jaime?

_Margaery: _Noooo! This game is being played in Girl World, so he doesn't understand the rules, let alone how to play. Keep him out of it. This is between you and _her _(and me 'cos I'm a ho for the drama).

Brienne sent a laughing face emoji to accompany her reply.

_Brienne: _We'll just have to come up with a plan...

Brienne's mind was focussed so much on putting together a full proof plan to take down Melara fucking Hetherspoon that she could present to Margaery, that she barely noticed when Jaime put his hand around her waist on Tyrion and Shae's front doorstep.

"You look really lovely tonight," he smiled. "I like this blue dress."

"Thanks," replied Brienne non-committedly, wondering whether she could secretly sign Melara up to NASA and send her into orbit, so she was as far away from Jaime as humanly possible.

Her mind was still on "The Plan" when Tyrion and Shae welcomed them into their house and gave glasses of champagne. While Jaime hung back to talk to Tyrion, Brienne pretended to listen to Tommen waffle on about his school judo championship, while she really wondered whether she could accidentally lock Melara in a field full of cows and then piss off the bull. In fact, the only time all evening when Brienne wasn't thinking up inventive ways to get rid of Melara Hetherspoon was towards the end after they had eaten Shae's brilliantly constructed three course meal, and Brienne found herself standing in the kitchen with Sansa talking about Margaery and Robb.

"The whole situation is totally ridiculous," said Sansa, taking a drink of her champagne. "He comes over to my flat every other day and complains that she's always saying he doesn't really want anything other than sex. She's wrong, of course, because he's been in love with her for years and she's barely noticed."

"He has?" asked Brienne surprised.

"Oh yeah," said Sansa flippantly. "Years and years. When they got together at Christmas, Robb thought that meant him and Margaery would be forever from now on. It surprised him no end that she only wanted a borderline Friends with Benefits thing."

"That's Margaery for you though, isn't it?" replied Brienne, thinking fondly of her slightly wacky best friend. "She's a free agent. She doesn't want anything to tie her down."

"Robb's bought her an engagement ring, the silly fool," said Sansa suddenly.

Brienne nearly dropped her glass of champagne at that statement. "What?"

"Tell me about it," laughed Sansa, rolling her eyes. "He came around last night to show me. It's a beautiful thing with a great big emerald in the centre. I obviously told him to stop being ridiculous - it's barely been two months of an almost relationship after all - but then he started going on about having a duty towards Margaery after what has happened, and that it would be the honourable thing to marry her. I asked him what he meant, but he was being all vague and weird."

Robb Stark was many things, but never _vague and weird._

"What?" asked Brienne bemusedly. "Do we live in 1588 or something? Just because they are shagging, it doesn't mean they should get married."

Sansa shook her head wearily. "I know. To be honest, Arya and Gendry are more mature about their relationship, and she's only just nineteen."

"How is Arya?" asked Brienne. "I feel like I haven't seen her in ages." In the three years since Arya Stark had helped Brienne save Casterly from a murderous cult, they had become firm friends, so Brienne had been a little disappointed when Arya had seemed less interested in keeping up the relationship.

"You and the rest of us," said Sansa. "Although she's got this part time job at _Biscuits for All Occasions, _she spends most of her time at some squat in Lannisport with Gendry, as part of some anarcho-syndicalist commune."

Now Brienne really was confused. "What does that mean?"

Sansa sighed. "I don't really know. It's called the Brotherhood Without Bananas or something and Arya informs me it is dedicated to bringing down the bourgeoisie and the capitalist classes. How they intend to do that from a squat in Lannisport, I don't know, but that's Arya and Gendry for you."

Brienne was going to say that if anyone could bring down capitalism from a squat in Lannisport, it was Arya Stark, when she felt a familiar arm slip round her waist. It was Jaime.

"Wench," he said carefully, "Tyrion and Shae are putting Tommen and Myrcella to bed, so maybe we should think about going."

Stiffening in his arms, Brienne exclaimed, "but I'm talking to Sansa!"

"Oh, don't worry," smiled Sansa, "Sandor and I should go too. It is getting late."

Knowing she had little choice, Brienne put her glass down, before trying to wiggle free. "Let me go and get my coat then."

"Don't worry," smiled Jaime, "I've already got it for you." Almost like a magician, he pulled her coat out from behind his back, and held it up for her to put on. Once she had it on, he ran his hands down her arms, as if to check she was safely inside.

Brienne managed to pull away from him for a few minutes more, as she had to say goodbye to everyone. The whole process was considerably delayed, as Tommen and Myrcella insisted doing a shortened performance of _So Long, Farewell _from _The Sound of Music _in lieu of actually going to bed. After Jaime and Brienne said goodbye to Shae and Tyrion, they lingered for a few more minutes on the drive with the Hound and Sansa, but eventually they too said their goodbyes and began to walk home. They didn't live far away, after all. In contrast, Jaime and Brienne lived over the other side of the village and therefore had to walk down the road to the nearby taxi rank and wait for a cab. As the temperature began to drop, Jaime pulled Brienne close and wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping his hands warm by putting them under her coat.

"What are you doing?" she asked, not looking him straight in the eye.

"Hugging my wench," he purred. "It's allowed, isn't it?"

"Sometimes." She didn't succeed in keeping the bitterness out of her voice.

Her distant statement seemed to confirm to Jaime what he needed to do. Using his nose to nudge her into looking at him. "We'll have that talk when we get home," he promised. "You can tell me what's going on with you, I'll try to help, and then we'll have a cuddle. And I promise I won't get distracted if you try and give me a blow job."

Brienne let out a huff of sad laughter. "Not tonight, Jaime. I'm tired."

"Brienne..."

"No, really," she insisted, suddenly feeling the weight of the world on her. "We will talk, but not tonight."

As that was not the answer he was looking for, Jaime gave her a quick kiss before gazing at her imploringly. "Soon?"

"Soon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arrrgggh! They are even frustrating me! I hope you enjoyed that chapter, and please consider leaving comments and kudos (even if it is just Melara hate)!
> 
> Next chapter... The Casterly Constabulary attend Orton Merryweather's Mayoral Campaign Launch Party...


	7. The Brotherhood Without Banners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Casterly Constabulary go to Orton Merryweather's Campaign Launch Party...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming back, guys! I hope you enjoy this chapter... I've been looking forward to it. As ever, please consider leaving comments and kudos - I love to hear how I am doing!

For the first time in ages, on the night of Orton Merryweather's party, Brienne looked at herself in the mirror and could have cried. She had chosen to wear a blue twenties style dress with a low back that Jaime had bought her to wear to her dad's sixtieth birthday party. At the time, she had thought she looked nice in it. Jaime certainly seemed to think so; he spent the whole evening gushing about her legs and her back and her freckles until she had snuck him into the ladies and they had had a quickie in one of the cubicles.

Tonight, though? She would be up against Melara Hetherspoon in a direct competition of 'who wore it best?' and there was no way in any universe that Brienne could win. When Melara showed up at the party in some beautiful dress with her dark hair falling around her shoulders, Brienne could already see how Jaime's head would be turned, and he would...

Someone wolf whistled from behind her, and she turned to see that her husband had just entered the room wearing his tuxedo, looking effortlessly gorgeous as usual.

"Have I just woken up and it's suddenly the 1950s?" grumbled Brienne, straightening her dress in the mirror.

"No," smirked Jaime, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "I just wanted to show some appreciation for my super sexy wench, that's all."

"Mmmm," hummed Brienne sceptically, still trying to straighten her dress even though Jaime's arms were in the way, rucking up her skirt.

Once Brienne had launched a tone of suspicion into the conversation, Jaime rested his head on her shoulder and let out a sigh that tickled her ear. "Brienne?"

"What?" she asked tersely, running her fingers through her hair, trying to make it look less straw-like.

It took him a few moments to compose what he was trying to say, but eventually he whispered, achingly gentle, "you are still my wench, aren't you?"

Brienne stiffened. Was Jaime starting to doubt their relationship? Was he seeing an alternative with Melara? "Of course I am," she said brusquely, wanting to leave him in no doubt of the situation. "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know," he began hesitantly, "it's just you've seemed quite _off _the last couple of weeks and I know we still haven't had that talk..."

"We will," she insisted. "It's just I'm trying to get ready for a party at the moment!"

"I know, I know," he said apologetically, "we don't have to have it now. It's just I really want to _talk _to you, Brienne, away from work and stress and the Baby Making Spreadsheet..."

"Jaime, you know why I made that..."

"I do," said Jaime levelly. "We want to have a baby, and that seems a practical way to approach it. It's just... I want to spend a bit of time with my _wife._"

"We spend lots of time together!" she said firmly, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

"I _know,_" he replied, for what felt like the hundredth time in that conversation, "but there are always distractions. I just want it to be just you and me for once."

_I want it to be you and me too, _thought Brienne sadly. _But how can that be when Melara is everywhere I look?_

For the first time since he had held her in front of the mirror, Brienne relaxed in his arms slightly, and put her hands on top of his. Jaime just squeezed her tighter. "I want that too," she said slowly, "but there is so much going on at the moment."

He gave her a cheeky smile. "I have an idea."

"Always dangerous."

Jaime let out a breath of laughter. "I booked us a table at a restaurant in Lannisport tomorrow night. It is one of those snooty French places where neither of us will understand the menus and it will all be horribly pretentious, but at least it will have cool music and good food and it will allow us to spend a bit of time together. Just us."

"Just us," mused Brienne, "that would be great."

Jaime burst into a huge grin before pecking her on the cheek. "It's a date!"

"It's a date," repeated Brienne, finding herself laughing gently at her husband's enthusiasm.

After that, they just hugged in front of the mirror for a bit, before Jaime let her go and fixed her with a serious look. "Now, wench, I need your help with something important."

"What?" she asked, suddenly a little panicked.

"I need you to help me fix my tie. I can't do it myself; I only have one hand."

* * *

They shared a cab to Lannis House with Robb and Margaery, because the latter only lived a few doors away, and it made sense to share. If Brienne had thought she and Jaime were going through a little rough patch, however, Robb and Margaery were something else. The tension could have been cut with a knife.

"You look nice in that dress, Margaery," Robb had barked, totally out of the blue after all of them had been sitting in silence for a few minutes. "Green suits you."

"What? Like emeralds, you mean?" Margaery bit back.

"Yeah," replied Robb harshly. "They suit you too, but you can't bloody well see it."

Margaery almost growled. "I see it, but sometimes a whacking great emerald doesn't cover over the problem at hand, Robb."

"But doesn't it show I'm serious?"

"No, it just shows you are flashy and like to waste money."

"Margaery..."

Luckily, at that point, the taxi arrived outside Lannis House, giving Jaime and Brienne the opportunity to bundle out of the car as quickly as possible away from the lovers' tiff. After shoving some twenties in the driver's hands, Jaime took Brienne's hand and purposefully marched off in the opposite direction of Robb and Margaery, who were now standing by the taxi quarrelling.

Once they were out of earshot, Jaime let out a whistle through his teeth. "What the fuck was all that about?"

"I don't know," said Brienne carefully, not wanting to gossip, "but I think Robb may have proposed to Margaery."

"WHAT!"

"Shhh," Brienne murmured. "Keep your voice down!"

"But why the hell would he do that?" asked Jaime incredulously. "They've been sort of together for two months! I thought I was being a bit presumptuous after I asked you after nine months, and that was nine months of a committed relationship."

"I don't know, but Sansa told me that Robb has bought her a ring and that it had an emerald in it. Sansa thought it was a stupid idea, too, and tried to talk him out of it, but then apparently he started being all vague and weird, and shut down on her."

"When is Robb ever vague?" asked Jaime bemusedly, "he's the most forthright man I know."

"It is all very strange," concurred Brienne. "I need to have a talk to Margaery and find out what's going on."

"Yeah, that would be a good idea," agreed Jaime. "Otherwise I think they are soon going to attempt to beat us for first prize in _The Most Annoying Couple in Casterly _competition."

"They can try," teased Brienne, "but we have a secret weapon."

"What?"

"_You_."

Jaime clutched his prosthetic hand to his chest and let out a dramatic gasp, "you wound me, wench."

"Sorry," she smirked. "Come on. Let's go into the party."

Orton Merryweather had clearly left no expense spared for his Campaign Launch Party. Many of the old portraits that lined the walls of Lannis House had been covered up by his face - beady-eyed and smiling - printed above a slogan that said _Lannisport and Casterly: Building Connections. _There were lots of waiters dotted round the room carrying trays of canapes and Brienne was a little disappointed in herself that she did not seem to spot any _fugu. _It signalled a professional failure. The dress code was black tie, so the room was awash with men in suits and women in colourful dresses. As she gazed around, Brienne felt a coil of tension winding in her stomach; it would only be a matter of time until she saw Melara.

When they bumped into the Hound, Robb Arryn, and Jon - who were all immaculately suited and booted in their tuxedos - the Hound pointed up at the makeshift stage that had been erected on one side of the room. "It looks like Orton is going to bore us all to death with his _opinions _on things," said the Hound gruffly, "like we care."

At that comment, Sansa appeared at his shoulder in a beautiful grey dress with spiral patterns. "It should be very informative," she interjected. "If he wants to be mayor, I need to know about his plans for the local area. They are going to affect us all."

Sansa's remark seemed to have given cause for Jaime to think, as he turned to Brienne and said, "what do you think of Orton? Do you think he would make a good mayor?"

Brienne's mind was cast back to the conversation she had had with Orton the previous day. There were things that made her feel uneasy; alongside Taena's angry exit, there had also been the subtle suggestion that he and Brienne had made some kind of deal, and that he had bought her silence with tickets for her and her colleagues to the party. It all felt a little underhand and Brienne wasn't sure whether she liked it.

"I don't know," she replied honestly, "I'll have to see what he promises us in his speech." Jaime went to say something in response, but at that moment the conversation came to an abrupt halt, as what Brienne most feared finally happened.

As if a spotlight was pointed at her, Melara Hetherspoon made her appearance. Sweeping into the room with the majesty of a Maharaja, she made herself seem delicate and ornamental by hanging off the arm of a date, who she smiled up at warmly. In spite of appearing enraptured with him, she wasted no time in making a beeline for her colleagues. The pace she chose was perfect; her silky red dress had a full skirt which swished dramatically as she walked, revealing the perfect line of her figure. Brienne would have never had the confidence to wear something similar, as there were two geometric shapes cut into it either side of the dress, which gave anyone who looked at it a view of her tapering waist. Her hair was styled in a wave of curls, which she wore draped over one shoulder, and she had painted her lips the most vibrant red, which attracted the eye instantly.

Brienne felt very, very sick.

When she finally came to a halt in front of them, arm in arm with her date, Melara gave her colleagues a simpering smile. "Hey guys... and _Jaime. _What a lovely party!"

Turning her head to look at her colleagues, Brienne felt an urgent need to scream when she saw that Robb Arryn and Jon's eyes had nearly popped out of their skulls, and the Hound's mouth had dropped open. With a little huffing sound, Sansa quickly shut it.

"Wow, Melara," stuttered Jon. "You look amazing."

"Thank you, Jon," she twittered prettily, as Brienne wondered whether it was socially acceptable to push her into the buffet. "It's just some old thing I had at the back of my wardrobe."

"Well, it's gorgeous," beamed Jon.

After giving him one more insincere smile, Melara's eyes instantly swivelled to her prey - Jaime - who was staring at her blankly. "What do you think, Jaime? How do I look?"

In the tense seconds that followed between Melara's question and Jaime's answer, Brienne almost couldn't look at her husband; anything more than him saying that she looked like a tramp was going to push her into a rage. Feeling the tension in the air, Jaime seemed to sense something was up as, unlike Jon, he hesitated in pronouncing his judgement on Melara's dress. Thinking he was going to say nothing at all, Brienne turned to look at him in relief. However, to her horror, Brienne then discovered that the corners of his mouth were curling up into a smile, dimples and all.

"You look nice."

Brienne dropped Jaime's hand.

Melara blushed such a pretty red that Brienne thought that a well-placed punch would reassemble her features into something resembling a painting from Picasso's pink period. "Thank you, Jaime. I like your suit too. It brings out your eyes." Melara shot a quick glance at Brienne before leaning forward and brushing Jaime's shoulder. "You just have a little bit of lint... just there."

"Oh," said Jaime, turning his head to have a look before pulling at his suit jacket himself. "Thanks."

"You are welcome."

_Girl World, _Brienne told herself, _you have to deal with this in Girl World. Punching her will help no one._

After Melara had moved on from trying to get her hands on Jaime in any way possible, she turned to her companion and put a hand on his chest. "This is my date for the evening, Aurane. I don't suppose any of you know him. He's fairly new to town."

For the first time since Melara had swept into the room, Brienne could concentrate enough to recognise Aurane. His silver-blond hair was swept into an impressive wave that would have taken several hours to style, and he had cultivated eye-catching designer stubble that only served to highlight the cleft in his chin. Everything he was wearing pointed to him being very concerned with his appearance; his velvet lounge suit, the silver cravat, the diamond-studded brooch in the shape of a moose. It surprised Brienne, because he had not seemed nearly so vain during the SARC meetings.

"I know you," said Brienne slowly, "you are Aurane Waters. We are on the SARC committee together."

"Charmed to see you once more, Inspector Lannister-Tarth," smiled Aurane seductively, fixing on her with her grey-green eyes. "As a businessman, I am most interested in hearing Orton's plans for the town, and I am sure you are too."

"Yes," replied Brienne, not really caring one jot. In actuality, all she wanted to do was run away and cry. If Jaime said Melara looked _nice _when he was in front of his wife, what on earth did he say to her when they were alone in their police car? "I'm sorry, I'm feeling a little lightheaded. I just need to go and get a drink."

At that pronouncement, Jaime turned to her concernedly. "Oh no, are you feeling ill? Do you want me to get you something?"

"No, no," she replied, waving her hands to put him off. "I just need to go and get... some water."

Not waiting another moment, Brienne dashed away from her colleagues and her husband in search of something - anything - that wasn't Melara's ravenous eyes zoning in on Jaime. Pushing through the crowd, she eventually found the distraction she was looking for, as Margaery was over by the bar drinking an orange juice. As Brienne staggered towards her and ordered a gin and tonic, Margaery patted her on the shoulder consolingly.

"Melara?"

"Yes," spat Brienne furiously. "She's _all over him."_

"Well, what are you doing over here talking to me?" asked Margaery, taking a sip of her orange juice. "Shouldn't you be over there marking your territory?"

As the barman handed Brienne her drink, she looked at Margaery venomously. "He said she looked _nice._"

Margaery rolled her eyes. "Oh no. Jaime has said another woman looks _nice. _Your marriage is over."

"Don't joke about this," said Brienne, taking another swig of her drink. "He's playing right into her hands."

"Well," replied Margaery, as if she was weighing up her options. "Don't let her play the game. Cut her off."

"How?"

Margaery gave her a sneaky smile. "Order a Guinness, pretend to trip up and ruin her dress. _Mean Girls _tells us that Regina George's power came from Aaron Samuels, her army of skanks and her hot body. You've got your Aaron Samuels, Melara's been here five minutes so she doesn't have an army of skanks, so everything rests on her hot body. Destroy her opportunity to flaunt it."

Brienne briefly considered that plan as an option, but then she just shook her head. "I'm not that petty, Margaery. I just wish she would _stop_."

Margaery let out a dramatic sigh. "You told her to stop at work yesterday and she hasn't. You have got to be sneaky about this."

"But I'm not sneaky," said Brienne wearily. "I just don't know what to do."

"Pull yourself together, for one thing. You can't let yourself go to pieces over this, that's for sure."

Brienne took a sip of her drink. "And you would know all about not going to pieces about your love life, I suppose."

Margaery stiffened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Brienne fixed her best friend with a knowing look. "It's quite clear all is not well in Robb and Margaery Land. You can talk to me, you know?"

At that statement, something very strange happened. Margaery went suddenly pale, as if she was going to faint. In all the time Brienne had known her, Margaery had never looked so worried. "But... but... I can't."

Brienne furrowed her brow, confused. "Why not?"

Margaery looked around nervously, seemingly wanting to lock her eyes on anything other than Brienne's face. "You've got a lot going on, what with work, and Melara, and the fertility stuff. I don't want to burden you more."

"You wouldn't be burdening me," Brienne replied earnestly, "you're my best friend."

That simple, sincere acknowledgement of Brienne's affections finally caused Margaery to look at her. Although she was trying to smile, Brienne could tell it was glossing over something painful. "I know you are, and you are my best friend too. It's just... I _can't. _Not yet anyway. But we will talk... soon."

"You promise?"

"Promise," replied Margaery, putting her drink on the bar and drawing Brienne in for a hug. Once they broke apart, Margaery gestured over her shoulder. "I've just got to go to the toilet. We'll talk later, okay?"

"Okay."

And without another word, Margaery turned away from her and headed off to the toilets, leaving Brienne feeling alone, confused, and a little worried.

_Why won't she just talk to me? _Brienne thought desperately, taking another sip of her drink. _We're best friends. We are meant to be able to talk about anything._

* * *

For the next few hours, Brienne spent her time drifting between groups of casual acquaintances rather than talking to anyone she knew very well. With everything that was going on with Jaime and Margaery, she was feeling strangely unwanted, so preferred to spend her time drinking and talking to Jorah Mormont about St Alysanne's Church Roof than anything closer to the heart. A couple of times she spotted her husband - looking like half a god - who would always be scanning the room as if he was searching for someone. Thinking it was herself, Brienne made sure she was well hidden, especially when she saw Melara trailing in his wake.

At around ten o'clock the lights dimmed and there was the sound of clinking glasses as Orton Merryweather took to the stage. A large projection screen was lowered down behind him and the room hushed in anticipation of his speech. As everything was getting prepared, Brienne noticed Taena standing to one side of the stage and, although she did not know her well, Brienne had enough skills at reading suspects through her job to infer she looked nervous.

Clearing his throat, Orton smiled out at the crowd, his beady eyes glistening as someone trained a spotlight on him. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and thank you for coming to the launch party of my campaign to be the Mayor of Lannisport."

There was a round of polite applause at that, but Brienne barely noticed as her eyes had suddenly fallen on Jaime, who was standing to one side of the room near the stage, drink in hand. Although his gaze was fixed on Orton, Melara was standing next to him, and she kept leaning up to whisper in his ear. Brienne chilled at the thought of what she was saying.

_I want you, lion cub..._

"Although, at first, the purpose of tonight may seem to be to get drunk and have a good time, in truth, I have invited you all here to tell you why I, Orton Merryweather, am the perfect candidate to be Mayor of Lannisport."

Orton had clearly streamlined his speech well as, just at that moment, the poster of him with the phrase _Lannisport and Casterly: Building Connections _appeared on the screen. There was yet another round of applause.

"I was born in Lannisport and have lived there for most of my life, building up my luxury tractor business for the past twenty five years. As a child, I came to Casterly regularly with my grandmother. She was particularly interested in church architecture, and loved to take me up Visenya's Hill, in order to look over the village and see the steeple of St Alysanne's in the distance."

The view from the hill appeared on the screen.

"Consequently, as Mayor of Lannisport, I would endeavour to deepen and strengthen connections between town and village, the urban and the countryside, to make one cohesive economic unit that can easily rival competitors in the South West."

A map illustrating Casterly in orbit of Lannisport replaced the scene from Visenya's Hill. There was something strangely mercantile about it.

"Although, primarily, this will be focussed on strengthening inter-community and business relationships, as Mayor of Lannisport, I will also be considering our place in the country and the world. Modern business relies of fast information flow and quick travel, and consequently, I will want to allow connections between Lannisport and Casterly to be smoother, more efficient, and more streamlined. Therefore, as your Mayor, I will actively campaign for Casterly and Lannisport to become stops on the new HS3 line, that will not only connect our communities together more tightly, but will also make our home integral to the East-West route that crosses our country."

There was a gasp at that. HS3 was a controversial high-speed rail project from central government that was committed to linking Cardiff to London in one speedy rail connection. The scheme had already gone billions of pounds over its original estimates, and there were complaints that it would ruin the local environment as well as house prices, but even so, there was no doubting that it would well and truly put Lannisport and Casterly on the map.

"To show how committed I am to this project, I am going to show you an interview I recorded with Barristan Selmy, the Minister of Transport, about how integration of Lannisport and Casterly could significantly improve the lives of citizens in both communities."

Just as Orton's video started to play, Brienne's phone buzzed. Hurriedly getting it out of her bag in order to not disturb anyone, she saw it was a notification from the app _EggTime, _which was set up to remind her when the best times for conception were.

_Brienne! You are now in the most fertile stage of your reproductive cycle! Grab your man and get down to it!_

Lifting her head, Brienne glanced at Jaime. He was still watching Orton's video as if he found it genuinely interesting, while Melara was clutching onto his arm, whispering.

_Okay EggTime, _thought Brienne venomously,_I'll go grab my man!_

Pushing through the crowd (and almost knocking over Masha Heddle in the process), Brienne marched over to Jaime, forcefully cutting through Melara's arm and replacing it with her own as she approached. Jaime turned to look at her, and his eyes lit up when he saw it was her.

"Wench," he grinned. "I've been looking for you all evening. What do you think of Orton's plans? Pretty radical, eh?"

"I don't give a shit about Orton's plans," Brienne replied honestly, her tone a little sharp. "You need to come with me. _Now."_

"Why?" he asked, his features awash with confusion.

Drawing close to him, she said, "we are in thrall of a higher power."

Without another word, she tugged him away from his position close to the stage, making sure she bumped into Melara at the same time. As they walked across the room, Jaime kept trying to change the way she was touching him by holding her hand, but she just shook him off. Not looking at him, she directed him to a small side room she had spotted earlier during her reconnaissance of Lannis House and, taking one more glance around to check no one was looking, shoved him inside. The room was a fairly plain office with a desk, which Brienne thought would suit her purposes fine.

"Brienne, what's going on?" asked Jaime. Not answering his question, she went to perch on the desk, removing her knickers in the process. Jaime just stared at her incredulously.

"_EggTime _has just informed me that, right at this moment, I am at my most fertile in my cycle. You need to fuck me... now."

Jaime shot a look over his shoulder back towards the closed door, as if he thought someone would burst in. "What? Here? Now?"

"Here. Now," Brienne repeated firmly, parting her thighs. "Come on, don't keep me waiting."

"But what about...?"

"I don't care," she spat exasperatedly, thinking he was going to say _but what about Melara? _"I am your wife. Do what I ask."

Nodding gently at her, Jaime took a couple of tentative steps forward, before resting his hands on her shoulders. Smiling at her softly, he brought his left hand up and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "So beautiful," he mumbled, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. He then began to kiss her face with the utmost care - her cheeks, her forehead, her eyelids, her nose - all the while tracing one finger in a line down her neck towards her chest. If she was less annoyed, she would have blushed, but in that moment, she just found it infuriating.

"Jaime, can you please just hurry up and stop wasting time! I'm not here for you to kiss, I'm here for you to _fuck."_

When he drew away from her, Brienne noticed his eyes seemed a little sparkly, and he was wearing a wounded expression, as if she had just slapped him. Taking the initiative, Jaime grabbed one of her hands, lifting it to hold against the centre of his chest. "Brienne," he said hoarsely, as if he was struggling to get the words out. "What have I done? Whatever it is, just _tell _me and I'll make it right."

Brienne was taken aback by that statement. "What makes you think you've _done _anything?"

He sighed, looking down at her hand that was now splayed across his chest. "You want to fuck me, but you don't want to hold my hand. You don't want me to kiss you. You don't want to hold me while we are sleeping. You won't run your fingers through my hair or even make jokes with me. I _love _all that Brienne. To be honest, it means more to me than the sex. What have I done to make you stop wanting that? Why don't you want me?"

Not since the time she had broken his heart outside _The Inn at the Crossroads _had she seen Jaime look so sad and, in an instant, the ridiculous extent to which she had run with her jealousy hit her. It made Brienne want to cry.

_Jaime, _she thought. _I do want to hold you, but I can't get away from the fear that you want that from someone else._

"Jaime," she began, taking a big breath. "It's not that. It's just ever since Melara..."

Given how close she and Jaime were teetering towards emotional intimacy, Brienne almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of the scream that came from the main room as the lights went out. Reaching out blindly in the darkness, she tried to find Jaime, her hand landing on his shoulder in her search.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know... I..."

Whatever Brienne was going to say was suddenly interrupted by the sound of dubstep coming from the main room.

"That doesn't sound like Orton Merryweather's jam," said Jaime worriedly.

"You are quite right," replied Brienne, pulling her knickers up from around her ankles. "We should go and investigate."

When the two of them got back to the main room, they discovered that pandemonium had struck. Orton Merryweather was being bullied off the stage by a man wearing a balaclava, who was carrying a big sign saying AGAINST ENVIRONMENTAL DESTRUCTION. AGAINST MERRYWEATHER. Another person with their face covered - a short, petite woman who looked quite young - was carrying a second sign (which was admittedly wittier): THERE WILL BE NO MERRY WEATHER WITH MERRYWEATHER.

Other miscreants wearing Guy Fawkes masks were also on the stage, blowing whistles and carrying placards highlighting their opposition to environmental destruction, gentrification, and the capitalist classes. Brienne was just trying to make out their figures more clearly when the projector came back on.

"The night is dark and full of terrors, Orton," boomed the voice of a red headed man with a top knot, who appeared on the screen. "Are you for successful businesses taking route in Casterly and Lannisport? Are you for easier rail connection with London? Are you for deeper connections between Casterly and Lannisport! Then vote for Orton Merryweather, you fools! We are the BROTHERHOOD WITHOUT BANNERS and we stand against him!"

The crowd was looking round confusedly as the people wearing balaclavas started to chant "ORTON OUT! ORTON OUT!" and blow whistles, screaming, shouting, and stopping anyone from saying anything in Orton's defence. The face of the man with the top knot continued to loom over them all, blaming Orton Merryweather for all sorts of problems in Lannisport - greater investment in hospitals by private companies, consulting with central government on HS2, and the wiping out of the grey squirrel, an invasive species - all while his acolytes continued to chant.

"We've got to stop this!" declared Brienne, turning to Jaime. "This may constitute trespassing and a public nuisance."

Jaime looked at her, clearly at a loss. "But how?"

Thinking quickly, Brienne followed the train of light that was projecting the man with the top knot's image onto the screen. "The projection room," said Brienne authoritatively. "We can turn off the video. I know where it is. Come with me!"

Following her in an instant, Jaime put on the mask of Sergeant Lannister-Tarth and joined Brienne in charging out of the reception room and up in the direction of the projection room. "What do we do once we get there?" asked Jaime. "Do you know how to use a projector?"

"No, I don't," replied Brienne, trying to keep her cool, "but it is bound to be one of his acolytes that has fiddled with Orton's video. Maybe we can persuade them to turn it off." Due to Brienne's knowledge of Lannis House, it did not take them long to locate the projection room. Although the door was partly ajar, Jaime felt the need to kick it open, no doubt wanting to play the macho police officer.

Whatever Brienne had been expecting to see, it was not the sight that greeted her.

Gendry and Hot Pie were standing by the projector, their mouths open, both clutching balaclavas which they had clearly just removed. Their eyes wide, they were staring down in terror at a woman who was lying on the floor. Even in the dim light afforded by the projector, Brienne could see that there was something majorly wrong with her. Her whole body was shaking and spasming, while she violently frothed at the mouth, twitching and moaning as she writhed on the ground.

"What the hell is going on!" shouted Jaime, looking from Gendry to Hot Pie and back again.

The two boys stared at each other in panic, before Gendry stuttered. "I don't know. We just came in here to put Thoros' video on, and then she came in and found us and started... doing that!"

Yet Brienne barely heard them. Dropping down next to her, she carefully rolled her onto her side, knowing that it was the best way to keep her airway clear. When her face came into the light, Brienne instantly recognised her; it was Senelle. Knowing how dangerous this space was, Brienne shoved away a roll of film that sat close by, not wanting Senelle to accidentally injure herself.

"Jaime!" cried Brienne, looking up at him. "She's having a fit! Go and call an ambulance! Get some help!"

Not wasting a second, Jaime charged from the room, while Gendry and Hot Pie just looked down at Senelle, a mixture of guilt and panic on their faces.

"It's going to be alright, Senelle," said Brienne gently, not even believing it herself. "I promise. It's going to be alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH, so finally... drama! I hope you liked that, I definitely enjoyed writing it. As usual, I love comments and kudos, I lurrrve it (I am a little behind on replying, but I am reading!)
> 
> Next chapter... Brienne has to deal with the aftermath of the Launch Party...
> 
> PS. HS3 is just a piss take of HS2, for all you Brits out there!


	8. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The repercussions of the events of Orton Merryweather's party are felt...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks so much for coming back! I hope you enjoy this one...

"So what you are telling me, is that the _entire _Casterly Constabulary was here, and nobody foresaw this?" thundered Orton Merryweather, staring venomously at Brienne as he paced up and down the little office in Lannis House. At his tone, Taena came out of the shadows and put her hand on Orton's shoulder, as if to calm him down, but he just shook her off. "Well?"

Brienne gazed down the line at her fellow officers, all wearing tuxedos or dresses, who had been brought before Orton Merryweather like naughty school children. They all looked to her for leadership. She wanted to say something that would defend them, that would demonstrate they were a professional and resourceful team, but her mind was preoccupied with other things.

_What have I done to make you stop wanting that? Why don't you want me?_

It made Brienne feel sick. _Oh Jaime, what the hell have I done?_

"Speak, Inspector!" demanded Orton furiously. "Not only was my presentation _ruined _by those Brotherhood thugs, but a priceless family heirloom was stolen from my dressing room and Senelle... Senelle..." His voice seemed to soften at that, and as it did so, Taena shot him a dirty look as she stepped forward.

"What my husband is trying to say is that most of these things could have been avoided if your officers were more aware, Inspector Lannister-Tarth. Orton's signet ring has been in the family for generations, and that stunt by Thoros Myr and his little minions may have cost my husband the mayoral election!"

Brienne scanned across her own officers once more, but it was only when she locked eyes with Jaime that she found the courage to answer. "Mr and Mrs Merryweather, I am truly sorry that the party did not go as planned, but my colleagues and I were in attendance as private citizens and we all made the best of the situation once it came to our attention. Not only did Sergeant Clegane and Constables Payne and Snow make a significant attempt to remove the protestors from the building without using significant force, but without Sergeant Lannister-Tarth's quick actions, it is quite possible that Ms Jones would already be dead."

As Brienne shot Jaime a thankful smile, Taena made a dismissive huffing sound. If Brienne was in a less charitable mood, she could have sworn she then heard Jaime's ex-girlfriend mutter, "that might be better for everyone."

Orton seemed to have picked up on what Taena said too, as he gave his wife an utterly filthy look, before turning back to Brienne. "I expect this to be sorted! I want my ring found, and I want Thoros punished!"

Sometimes, it was difficult to be sympathetic towards the most entitled victims of crime but, as it was her job, Brienne gave Orton what she hoped was a reassuring nod and said, "of course, Mr Merryweather. The Casterly Constabulary will do everything in our power to see justice is done."

* * *

It was two in the morning by the time Brienne, Jaime, Margaery, and Robb Stark got back in a taxi and headed home. A silence hung over them all, just as it had for much of the journey to Lannis House, but the iciness did not come from Margaery and Robb this time. In fact, Margaery fell asleep with her head on Robb's shoulder, and he just stroked her hair. Instead, the awkwardness bloomed between Jaime and Brienne, as Jaime refused to do anything but look out the car window at the lights of the buildings that rushed by.

Once they arrived back at their street, Robb asked the taxi driver to leave it on the metre as he escorted Margaery home. "I'll just return Margaery home and then I'll be back. Goodnight Brienne, goodnight Jaime. I'll see you on Monday."

"Night," Jaime and Brienne said in unison, before they began to walk up the road in the direction of their cottage. Jaime was a few steps ahead, keeping a quick pace, so Brienne had to jog to catch up with him. When she did, she took his hand in hers. At the contact, he snapped his head around to look at her, his green eyes searching.

"What are you doing?"

A lump bloomed in Brienne's throat. "Holding your hand, because I _want _to hold your hand."

He gave her a pained look. "You do?"

"Yes," she said sincerely. "Very much."

They did not say much more to each other until they got inside their house and went straight to their bedroom, where Brienne helped Jaime undo his tie, take off his jacket, unbutton his shirt, and remove his prosthetic hand. Once all that was done, she just cupped his face with her hands and brought him in for a kiss. It was deep and slow, not frenetic or passionate. She wanted it to be full of care and of her love for him.

_What have I done to make you stop wanting that? Why don't you want me?_

"I'm sorry," she said when they broke apart, keeping one hand on his face so she could move it back into his hair. "I'm so, so sorry."

"It's okay..."

"No it's not," said Brienne forcefully. "I've been an utterly shitty wife and partner to you the last few weeks, so let me apologise, please."

Jaime pulled her into his arms, while she planted gentle kisses along his jaw. "Go on then," he smiled, "I'm all ears. Apologise."

It all came out in a rush. "I'm sorry I haven't kissed you like I mean it, or held your hand, or run my fingers through your hair, because I know you love those things and need them from me. I love them too, but, as per usual, I've just let all my irrational insecurities get in the way of being a good wife to you. So, _I'm sorry_. Doctor Aemon would probably say I was just trying to feel powerful because I felt insecure and I took it out on you... and he would probably be right."

"You haven't seen him for a few months," said Jaime levelly. "Perhaps it's a good idea to see him again. You could book more appointments with him, or maybe I could come with you if the issue is your ability to say when you are struggling."

"We're not made of money."

"I know," he conceded, "but if it helps, it helps."

Sometimes, Jaime was just too sweet. Kissing him softly, she ran her fingers through his hair before breaking away and looking into his eyes. "You have such lovely hair."

He grinned at her. "I know. You've seen our bathroom; I spend lots of money on it." After she laughed, Jaime turned her around so he could help her unzip her dress, and she did not protest. "So, why were you feeling insecure?"

There were many reasons, Brienne knew; first and foremost was her fears about giving him a baby. She had felt so intensely inadequate since Doctor Marwyn's diagnosis that it was almost overwhelming. However, that was not all. There was also the issue of the weed growing around her feet - Melara Hetherspoon - with her pretty smile and cute freckles and simpering laugh. She wanted to explain how both problems had seized her so entirely, yet, looking into Jaime's eyes, only one of the two seemed a serious issue with which to burden him. The second was just a congealed mess of irrational thoughts, something Doctor Aemon would just tell her to discard. And, anyway, by mentioning Melara's name here, in their bedroom, while Jaime's fingers were skirting down Brienne's back as he helped her get out of her dress, felt too much like inviting the devil in.

"Ever since Doctor Marwyn told me I couldn't give you children I've been a mess."

He looked at her sympathetically. "It's _us _who can't have children..."

"But it's not though, Jaime, it's not. It's me," she replied, trying to keep her tears at bay. "You would make an absolute wonderful father, and if you were with someone else you could have that."

"But I don't want to be with someone else," he said, pained, slipping her dress off her shoulders and down her arms. "I want to be with you."

She turned her head so she could lean back and kiss his cheek and he put his arms around her naked torso, cradling her against him. "I know you do, and that's what the whole Baby Making Spreadsheet and making you have sex with me at weird times has been about. You want to be with me, I want to be with you, and because of that I want to make the best of what we've got. I want to try my hardest to give you a baby. Yet, at the same time, I've found myself kind of angry at the fact that I can’t conceive, and you could, if you were with someone else. Someone who was younger, prettier..."

"I don't want someone younger and prettier," Jaime interjected, but Brienne continued, knowing that her jealousies were irrational.

"I know, Jaime, I _know. _It's just I ended up over thinking it and it all just spiralled out of control into a place where it meant I couldn't be affectionate with you. When I wasn't thinking straight, the point of sex beyond baby making just seemed to allude me, and every time we tried, I just thought _he can and I can't. _I think I wanted to try and reclaim some control over that process; I wanted to feel powerful, so, if I was deciding what type of sex we were having, and it was me on top, strong and in charge, then maybe I could take ownership of what sex means to us again. The terrible thing is, by doing that I was awful to you and didn't think about what _you _need. I was not affectionate. Not loving. Selfish. I was so wrapped up in my own problems, it took you shoving how badly I was treating you in my face for me to see it. And I'm just so sorry."

Brienne felt some of the tension go out of his shoulders after she finished speaking, and the relieved sigh he let out tickled her neck. "Baby making is not the only point of sex."

"No?"

"No."

The apologies were silenced for a few minutes as Jaime kissed her, all the while helping her take off the rest of her clothes as she struggled with his flies. They only stopped kissing when they were totally naked, and Jaime pulled her into bed beside him, drawing her into his arms.

"Jaime?"

"Mmm?" he hummed, while sucking at her neck.

"You don't have to have sex with me tonight," she said gently, "I don't want to make you feel like I just see you as some sort of sperm dispenser." 

Jaime looked at her, smiling. He was clearly grateful for her spelling that out. "Thank you for talking to me," he mumbled, before planting a kiss on her shoulder.

"No, thank _you,_" replied Brienne, looking up at him adoringly. "You've consistently been the only one of us half decent at communicating. If you hadn't said anything, I would have continued to be an angry mess and not noticed I was treating you terribly, so I am sorry."

"We can talk about all this stuff," said Jaime gently. "Remember, I've booked us to go out for dinner tonight. Maybe we can chat about how we want to get better at communicating; couples’ therapy, extra holidays, whatever helps... because I really don't want to spend any more time feeling like my wench doesn't want me."

Brienne felt her eyes filling with tears, "I do want you... so much."

"So let's not let any of the bullshit get in the way of that," he replied. "Let's find a way to _talk _properly."

"Agreed," smiled Brienne, stroking his hair, which caused him to lean in and press his lips to hers. After a few minutes of gentle kissing and looking into each other’s eyes, Brienne said, "now, I think it's only right that you get to be Little Spoon tonight."

Jaime's face positively lit up as she said that. "Are you sure?"

"Of course," Brienne smiled, putting one hand on his chest and running her fingers through his chest hair. "So roll over, Mr Lannister, I'm going to spoon you within an inch of your life."

* * *

When she woke up the following morning, Brienne discovered that Jaime had stirred first, and had turned over in the circle of her arms to smile at her. "Good morning, wench."

"Good morning, Jaime," she smiled, before leaning in to give him a slightly stale morning kiss. "How are you?"

"Great," he grinned, "even though the party I went to last night was gate-crashed by crazed members of an anarcho-syndicalist commune, my wench spoke to me, so I am happy."

Brienne could feel herself melting at the strength of his devotion. "And we'll talk more this evening, yes? At the restaurant?"

Jaime nodded. "Of course. I booked the table for seven thirty, but I also promised Tyrion and Shae I would entertain Myrcella and Tommen today because Shae has to go and visit her mum. I was thinking of taking them to Lannisport to see a film anyway, so... do you want to come with?" All things considered, a day at the cinema with Jaime and his niece and nephew was an entirely pleasant way of spending a Saturday but, remembering Orton Merryweather's furious expression, Brienne knew she had to turn him down.

"Unfortunately, I think I should probably do something to demonstrate to Orton and Taena that the Casterly Constabulary are taking what happened last night seriously."

"But it is a _Saturday,_" moaned Jaime, "you deserve to have fun."

"I know," laughed Brienne, "and we'll have fun when we go out for dinner tonight. It's just I have to do this first, m'kay?"

Being the utterly professional police officer he was, Jaime understood, but to register his disappointment, he let out an over dramatic sigh. "Alright, wench. Save the fun for dinner. Given that Tyrion says he's fine picking up the kids from Lannisport, shall I meet you directly at the restaurant? I can send you the details?"

"Sounds perfect," replied Brienne, "although if it is a pretentious French restaurant, I might let you order for me, because I will be utterly clueless."

"Like always," he teased.

It took quite a long time to extricate herself from her husband, because he was insisting on kisses and remaining naked for as long as possible, but with promises of _later, later, _she finally managed to get herself into the bathroom for a shower and into her clothes for the day. Once she was done, she went back into their room in search of her phone, which she was annoyed to find she had not put on charge due to the chaos of the previous night. As she unsuccessfully looked for her portable charger, a message popped up on the screen.

_Margaery: _Can you please come and save me? Robb wants to talk about our feelings again.

Laughing at how ridiculous her friend could sometimes be, she replied with a quick _yes _before turning back to Jaime.

"I'll see you at the restaurant later," she smiled.

He gave her yet another kiss, before saying. "Seven thirty. Don't be late."

* * *

Margaery was waiting on her doorstep when Brienne arrived, rolling her eyes.

"All bloody morning," she complained. "Phone calls, texts. I'm surprised he hasn't tried semaphore in his attempts to _communicate _with me."

"Well, you could just _talk _to him," said Brienne, knowing that was a bit rich coming from her.

"Nah, what's the point?" Margaery grumbled. "He'll only come up with another stupid plan."

Aware that if they remained on this topic of conversation, Margaery was going to spend the rest of the day being grumpy, vague, and a little annoying, Brienne changed the direction of conversation towards the issue at hand. "So, I was thinking we would go to the hospital and see how Senelle is. After that, I thought we'd have a poke around town and see if anyone has heard about this so-called Brotherhood Without Banners. Hopefully, we will find out something useful to present to Orton on Monday."

"Sounds a good plan," replied Margaery, straightening her jacket. "Are we going to walk to the bus stop? It's a nice day?"

"Yeah, why not? The village always looks pretty this time of year."

As they walked across Casterly, Brienne and Margaery talked about everything other than Robb and Jaime - Casterly Footlight's latest production, the fat ass Kelly Price episode of _Catfish, _and even the Hound's commitment to enter Joff in the _National Police Dog Champions _\- and for the first time in weeks, Brienne just felt relaxed.

_Everything is going well, _she thought. _Even if it is not happening exactly the way I expected it._

Walking through the centre of town, her cheer only increased, as she loved feeling part of a community she knew well. Masha Heddle and Jorah Mormont both stopped for a chat, and Brienne even got a wave off Aurane Waters, whose signet ring glistened in the light as he did so. However, her bright mood was dampened somewhat when they arrived at the hospital, as they found the paramedic Samwell Tarly outside, looking very, very tired. He had been the one on call when Senelle had been taken to the hospital late at night, so Brienne was surprised to see he was still up.

"Hello Sam," said Brienne as she and Margaery drew close. "I didn't expect you to be here, I thought you would have gone home. You look tired."

At that comment, Sam gazed up at her sadly. "I would have done, if it weren't for..."

"What?"

Sam looked between Brienne and Margaery, his expression suddenly conspiratorial. "If it wasn't for Senelle."

Margaery nodded with understanding. "I get it. You know her quite well, don't you? You are both on the SARC committee with Brienne. It's horrible to see someone you know suffer like that. But I wouldn't worry. My cousin Willas has epilepsy, and he's always found a way to cope..."

The horrified expression on Sam's face stopped Margaery in her tracks. Noting his mood, Brienne asked, "what's the matter?"

Sam clearly struggled to find the best way to put it, but eventually he managed to rasp, "Senelle's dead."

Brienne's stomach swooped. She had not had to deal with a death in Casterly for three years, not since she, Jaime, and their fellow officers had brought down the murderous cult that had operated in secret at the heart of the village for years. Although she did not know the full story yet, Brienne felt the prickle of suspicion creep up her neck.

"What happened?" gasped Margaery.

"When we got her into the ambulance, we thought it was just a routine epileptic fit," said Sam, "so Talisa and I tried to give her anti-epileptic drugs, but strangely they had no effect. Once we were nearly at the hospital, she started to throw up, so we rushed her inside, but by that point she had fallen unconscious. Doctor Ebrose then took her to the ward, only to discover she was completely paralysed and had to be kept on a respirator. She lasted a few more hours but slipped away early this morning. It's so shocking and, to be honest... I'm completely baffled."

"Baffled?" asked Brienne, strangely baffled herself. "Why?"

Sam looked back up at the hospital, almost expecting someone to come out and reprimand him for sharing patient details, before turning back with a little smile. "I've always wanted to be part of a conspiracy," he said sadly, "and I have a feeling now is my chance."

Brienne leant forward, desperately intrigued. "What's going on Sam?"

He dropped his voice, so it was barely more than a whisper. "I think whatever happened to Senelle was not... _natural. _I've been a paramedic for years and I've never seen anything like it. To go from having an almost non-existent medical history to frothing at the mouth, vomiting, and paralysis? It's _weird_."

"What are you saying?" inquired Margaery, looking very confused.

Sam considered his words for a moment, before saying, "I just think that there should be an autopsy. At best, it could be some kind of weird allergic reaction to something, but at worst? I'd hate to think."

Brienne suddenly found she was breathing quickly, excited at the prospect of a mystery to get her teeth into. She loved her life in Casterly, but she rarely had to deal with anything more enthralling than an onion heist. If Senelle's death wasn't natural, though? That really would be intriguing.

Grasping hold of Margaery's arm, Brienne tried to suppress her highly inappropriate excited grin. "Thank you for telling us, Sam," she said, in a way that she hoped appeared doleful. "Margaery and I will be going now."

"Are we?"

"Yes," said Brienne authoritatively. "We've got _lots _to do."

She had pulled Margaery halfway towards the hospital gate when Brienne turned back to look at the paramedic. "Sam?"

"Yes?"

"Have you heard anything about this Brotherhood Without Banners group? They made such a fuss at the party last night that what exactly they were up to may give us some insight with what was going on with Senelle."

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "Not really, but I have noticed some graffiti about town."

Trying to keep her excitement at bay, Brienne asked, "whereabouts?"

"Along the High Street. On St Alysanne's Church Hall. In the park. All over really. They seem quite prolific about wanting their message disseminated." Brienne mentally drew a route between all these places in her head; she knew what she and Margaery were going to spend the afternoon doing.

"Thanks Sam, for everything," Brienne said as she turned away again.

"You're welcome!" he called, just as Brienne and Margaery reached the gate.

Once they were out of Sam's earshot, Margaery fixed Brienne with an inquiring look. "Why did you ask him about the Brotherhood? It's a bit insensitive after what happened with Senelle."

"Because what if the Brotherhood and Senelle's death are connected?"

Margaery rolled her eyes. "Oh god, not another murderous cult. It was bad enough the first time."

"I'm not saying it's another murderous cult," insisted Brienne. "But don't you think it's interesting that on the same night the Brotherhood turn up, Senelle has this weird unnatural fit and Orton Merryweather's family signet ring is stolen?"

"It's a little weird," concurred Margaery, "but how do we know if they're connected?"

"We don't," grinned Brienne. "At least not until we investigate!"

Margaery shook her head, clearly not wanting to get involved in uncovering a major conspiracy. "Don't you think you are being a bit over the top with all this?"

Brienne shook her head. "Everyone thought I was being over the top when investigating Renly and Loras' deaths and look how that turned out! I'm not saying it's the same this time, but after what Sam said I have a gut feeling about this, and my gut feelings are normally correct."

Margaery let out an enormous sigh, somewhere between affectionate and exasperated. "Okay, Ms Detective. What are we going to do about your gut feeling then?"

Brienne's grin grew dramatically the second her best friend agreed to go along with her suspicions. "So, firstly, I think we follow the lead Sam gave us and go and find this Brotherhood graffiti. Let's work out what their general vibe is. Once we've done that, we can ask around the village, see if anyone knows anyone who is a member. Currently, our list is four people long - Thoros Myr, Arya Stark, Gendry Waters, and Hot Pie - there are bound to be more people involved than that. Then, come Monday, when the police resources are at our fingertips again, we can turn this into a more cohesive investigation. What do you think?"

Margaery thought about it for a moment, before smiling and saying, "come on then, Brienne. Lead the way. Show me how to uncover a conspiracy."

* * *

Uncovering a conspiracy, Brienne found, was always fun in its early stages. It relied on just a whiff of suspicion, and a series of tantalising clues that needed to be linked together. Therefore, for the best part of the afternoon, Margaery and Brienne traipsed around Casterly taking pictures of Brotherhood graffiti. It was all either highly decorative BWB initials, or less skilled slanders against Orton Merryweather - "you want a dirtier Casterly? Then don't vote for Orton Merryweather!"

They kept going until about five o'clock when Brienne's phone died, after which point the two women decided it was best to head to _The Inn at the Crossroads _to ask some of the locals if they knew anything about the Brotherhood Without Banners. Although Jorah Mormont had laughed and said he had never heard of them, other people were more forthcoming, so soon Brienne and Margaery had a nice little list of rumoured Brotherhood names: Lem Lemoncloak, Tom Sevenstreams, Merrit O'Moontown, Jon O'Nutten, and Edric Dayne. While Margaery was working Pia at the bar for any snippets of gossip, Brienne borrowed Margaery's phone and called Arya. She only got the answerphone, but nevertheless she decided to leave a message.

"Hey Arya, it's only me, Brienne. I'm just phoning because I have some really important questions to ask you about a case I'm working on. Would it be alright for you to give me a call at some point so we can have a chat? Look forward to hearing from you, bye!"

After she handed Margaery's phone back to her, Brienne drew close and whispered, "find out anything useful?"

"Just that Lem Lemoncloak lives in a caravan park on the outskirts of the village. I think it might be interesting to talk to someone who is actually in the Brotherhood."

"Brilliant work, Batwoman," Brienne grinned, picking her coat up from her chair and putting it on hurriedly. "We should definitely go and talk to him."

"Now?" said Margaery with surprise. "It's nearly eight o'clock. Isn't that a bit too late for a house call?"

"Not a caravan call, though," laughed Brienne. "Come on, where's your sense of adventure?"

Margaery looked at little pained, but eventually agreed to the idea. All in all, it took them about an hour to walk from _The Inn at the Crossroads _to the caravan park, with Brienne coming up with wild theories about what could connect Senelle and the Brotherhood.

"Maybe she was a member?" suggested Brienne as they entered the caravan park, "and maybe she knew they were going to attempt to do something."

"Why did she go charging into the projection room, then?" asked Margaery. "Surely if she knew something was going to happen, she would have tried to intervene earlier."

"I suppose you are right," replied Brienne, the air going out of her balloon.

_I don't have enough at the moment, _she thought. _I can't jump to conclusions..._

A few minutes later, Brienne and Margaery arrived at the dingy caravan supposedly occupied by Lem Lemoncloak. Not wasting any time, Brienne rapped sharply on the door, a greasy film smearing her knuckles as she did so. When there was no answer, she tried again, only this time it was accompanied by a, "Mr Lemoncloak? Are you in?"

When there was yet more silence, Brienne lifted her hand for a third go, but Margaery caught her wrist and brought it down to her side. "Brienne, he's not in. Look, the lights are out."

Sighing with disappointment, Brienne scratched her head, trying to think. "Maybe we should go back to _The Inn. _I think I've seen Merrit O'Moontown hanging out there a couple of times, maybe he'd be willing to talk..."

"Brienne," Margaery said again, a cutting edge to her tone. "Come on, it's late. Why don't we give up for the night?"

"Because we've got a mystery to solve!" said Brienne enthusiastically, as if she was in an episode of _Scooby Doo._

"But I'm tired," complained Margaery, "and I really, _really _need to piss."

"You went back at _The Inn _like four times," grumbled Brienne.

"I need to go again. And then I want to go home and go to sleep. My back aches and my boobs are hurting something rotten."

Brienne chuckled. "Margaery, why would your boobs be...?"

_Oh. The orange juice at Orton's party. The constant need to piss. Robb being super mysterious about his duty to Margaery._

"Oh fuck!" exclaimed Brienne suddenly.

Margaery fixed her with a confused look. "What's the matter?"

"You're... you're... _pregnant, _aren't you?"

Margaery expression became quite intense as she dropped her eyes to the floor. "I... I... I..."

"That's what you thought you couldn't tell me," Brienne continued, putting the pieces together even though she no longer felt she had any breath in her lungs. "You didn't think you could trust me with that information, not when I'm your boss. I wouldn't make work difficult for you, Marg, you know I..."

Margaery snapped her head up, suddenly looking very sorry for herself. "It wasn't that..." she began, a whine hovering in her tone.

"What was it then?"

Brienne's best friend took a deep breath. "It's just I knew that you and Jaime have been trying for _so _long, whereas Robb and I just don't seem to know how condoms work!"

Even though the comparison made Brienne feel slightly sick, she found enough strength to rasp, "how far gone are you?"

"About two months," confessed Margaery. "It was probably the Christmas party, or even soon after. I've been suspicious I was pregnant for a while, but it was only when I went for that doctor's appointment the other day that it was confirmed."

Feeling like she was putting together a weird emotional jigsaw puzzle, Brienne said, "and that's why Robb proposed? Because you are pregnant?"

"How do you know about that?" asked Margaery, shocked.

"Robb told Sansa that he had bought a ring. From your conversation in the taxi last night, I figured he had got down on one knee, and you had rejected him."

At that statement, Margaery suddenly looked quite irritated. "Well what would you do in my position? Robb and I aren't even boyfriend and girlfriend; we've just been vaguely dating around and being friends with benefits. I didn't want to turn it into a massive thing so soon, but then I tell him I'm pregnant and he feels like it's his honourable duty to marry me, like I'm sort of swooning medieval maiden and he's a knight in shining armour!"

Brienne did not know when it had started, but her and Margaery were taking small steps back across the caravan park over towards the gate, away from the mystery and towards reality. Looking up at the moon, Brienne could feel her throat constricting with threatening tears. This was almost too much.

"Are you going to keep it?"

"Yeah," replied Margaery firmly. "Even though it was a mistake."

_A mistake, _thought Brienne sadly. _How can something so wondrous be a mistake? When Jaime and I have tried and tried and tried, how can it be right that Robb and Margaery end up with a baby after a drunken fumble after a game of Kerplunk?_

"Oh."

Noticing the tone in Brienne's voice, Margaery reached out and grasped Brienne's hand. "I'm sorry."

"What are you apologising for?" asked Brienne, not quite able to look at her friend.

"For how shit and unfair this all is."

Brienne smiled sadly. "You don't have to apologise. It's not your fault... it's not anyone's fault. It's just... life is sometimes just so..."

Even though Brienne could not give life an accurate descriptor, Margaery said, "yeah, I know."

Not wanting her friend to feel in anyway troubled about the circumstances, Brienne turned around and wrapped her in her arms. Margaery reciprocated immediately. "I would be a really shitty friend if I was angry with you for this," said Brienne sincerely. "So if you need anything, _anything, _you know where I am. I will help you through this, one hundred percent."

_Even if it breaks my heart to see you blooming while I wither._

"Thanks babe," murmured Margaery into Brienne's shoulder, before they broke apart. "I'm going to need all the help I can get."

Brienne gave her what she hoped was a positive smile. "You can do this. I'll be there. Your family will be there. _Robb _will be there. What more could you need?"

Margaery let out a bitter laugh, "for Robb Stark to understand that although he's got me up the duff, I don't necessarily want to marry him."

* * *

They walked back together in the moonlight, discussing what exactly Margaery intended to do to make this easier for herself. She said that her grandmother Olenna was a retired fertility specialist who, these days, only worked with very special clients.

"She'll help me every step of the way as me and my baby are very special," grinned Margaery, blushing.

"Of course you are."

With every breath, Margaery seemed to find another concern, issue, or worry that was troubling her that she had been bottling up for weeks. _What if I don't make a good Mum? What if I'm making a mistake? How involved should Robb be as a father? Should I make my relationship more secure? Do you think it would be painful? _Brienne had considered most of those questions every single time her period had been a few days late and had dreamed of handing Jaime their baby they had made together. She tried to answer as best she could, even though every single one felt like a bullet to the heart.

Once they got back to Margaery's house, Margaery gave Brienne another enthusiastic hug. "Thanks so much for this babe," she smiled. "I feel like I haven't been able to talk to anyone about this. Robb has had such fixed ideas about what we should do that he won't _listen _to me."

"You have to try talking to him again," said Brienne, thinking of how easy it had been to communicate with Jaime the previous night, and how much lighter she felt. "It will do you both good."

"I know, I promise I'll try."

"Good," smiled Brienne, "I'll see you on Monday at work, yeah?"

"Yes, of course."

"And if you have any problems before then, you know where I am, right?"

Margaery looked almost relieved as she gave Brienne a happy nod. "Of course. Goodnight babe."

"Night, Marg," replied Brienne, giving her one last wave and then walking back up the garden path towards her own house.

She felt Margaery's eyes on her for a few more seconds but only once her friend had disappeared inside did Brienne slump her shoulders and press her face into her hands.

_Margaery's pregnant and I'm not._

_Is this some kind of cruel joke?_

Barely keeping control of her emotions, Brienne returned to her own cottage, fiddling with the keys in the lock for longer than usual because she could not see it through her own brimming tears. Once she got inside, she dumped her handbag on the floor before wiping her face, trying not to cry.

"What time do you call this?"

Almost jumping out of her skin, Brienne looked up to see Jaime sitting in a chair by the door, dressed in his lovely maroon suit that she knew he only wore on special occasions. It hit her in an instant.

_It was nearly eleven o'clock._

_The pretentious French restaurant in Lannisport._

_Talking about their problems._

_Date night._

Gazing into his green eyes, Brienne struggled to find the words.

Eventually, she came up with, "oh shit."

"Yeah," replied Jaime, his voice icy in an attempt to contain his fury. "Oh shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo... first step in the mystery! I'm really interested to see what everyone thinks is going on in Casterly, so please let me know in a lovely comment or with kudos :)
> 
> Next time... Brienne has to deal with the consequences for standing Jaime up...
> 
> PS. If you want to find out more about Robb and Margaery getting together at Christmas, it is the first chapter of my "Many Flavours of Ice Cream" story!


	9. Husbands and Wives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne has to deal with the fallout of standing Jaime up...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Everyone seems really exasperated with Brienne atm (she so deserves it), so I hope you enjoy this chapter! As ever, I luuurve comments and kudos. They keep my skin clear :)

"Well, what time do you call this?" repeated Jaime, getting out of the chair. His green eyes were so cold that Brienne felt like she had been hit in the face by Mr Freeze from Batman.

"Errr," said Brienne, looking at her watch briefly before promptly forgetting how to tell the time under his furious stare. "Late."

"Yeah," replied Jaime, raising the volume of his voice. "I waited an hour and a half at the restaurant, before the waitress kindly suggested that I might have been stood up and did I want to come back to her place instead."

That pricked at Brienne's jealousies, but she made the decision to try and keep her temper at bay. "Did you think about taking her up on her offer?" she responded coolly, crossing her arms across her chest protectively.

Jaime let out a derisive snort. "Nah. I'm a glutton for punishment. I decided to come back here and see how long it took my wife to remember I existed. I should have considered it though, she was my type; tall, leggy, blonde. And the weird thing was she actually seemed to like me."

_Fuck, _thought Brienne. _Why am I such an idiot?_

"Oh Jaime," said Brienne, wringing her hands, her irritation subsiding at his obvious hurt, "I _do _like you. I _love_ you. Things just got... out of hand."

"Please enlighten me," he scoffed. "In what way did things get so out of hand that you forgot we were going to have our really important talk tonight?" Knowing the only thing she could do was try to explain and then profusely apologise, Brienne walked forward and went to put her hands on his hips. As she expected, he tried to push her away, but when she held fast, he relented and just showed his displeasure by sulkily not looking at her.

"So, it was a number of things, but mainly the fact that Margaery's _pregnant _and that's why her and Robb have been so weird and vague recently."

Jaime almost got whiplash with how quickly he snapped his head round to look at her. He had always loved a bit of gossip. "Pregnant?"

"Yeah, apparently they don't know how condoms work or something."

The way he was biting his lip showed her he was trying hard not to laugh at that comment, but when she tried to give him a conciliatory smile he retorted, "no! I'm still fucking angry!"

"I know," said Brienne, rearranging her features into a serious expression, "and I'm so sorry..."

"What else?" asked Jaime, quickly reconnecting with his anger, "what else was so important that meant you _forgot _all about me?"

"Margaery and I went to the hospital to see how Senelle was and we met Samwell Tarly and he told us that Senelle's dead and he thinks there's something suspicious about it. That, in conjunction with the fact the Brotherhood rocked up last night _and _Orton's signet ring was stolen makes me think this is bigger than just Senelle and there's something _big _going on, like some sort of conspiracy."

There was a momentary pause that seemed to go on an age. Brienne gave him an awkward smile that tried to convey how sorry she was, while still suggesting that she really did think there was a conspiracy going on. Eventually, Jaime passed his judgement.

"Oh great," he said sarcastically, "how brilliant. Another fucking murderous cult in Casterly. That sounds so much more fun than going out with your husband to a restaurant. Maybe next time, we could investigate together? What a hot date! Shall I pick you up at seven? We can go on a romantic shoot-out in the High Street, then I can wrestle a giant man in a supermarket, before you impale my sister on a miniature replica of my ancestral home!"

For the first time since the beginning of the argument, Brienne found herself getting quite annoyed; that had been a very fun date. "Who are you kidding? You loved that," she snapped, raising her voice, "and you love me in my biker chick get up! I wear it every year for you on your damn birthday!"

Jaime went a little red in the face. "But that's not the point! I just wanted a nice date with my wife where we ate some food and _talked, _like normal people do."

The extent to which she was a major idiot washed over Brienne at the sight of his half-furious, half-sad expression, as heavy and overwhelming as a tsunami. "I know Jaime, I _know. _I'm so sorry. I should have been there for you. I should..."

"Yeah, you fucking should have," hissed Jaime. "You spend weeks treating me like little more than a sperm donor you happen to fuck, and then you piss off with Margaery on a wild goose chase around town over some half-baked conspiracy theory."

"It's not a conspiracy theory!" insisted Brienne. "I have a feeling in my gut..."

He rolled his eyes. "Do you know what, Brienne? I don't really care. I don't care that you've got some feeling that there are masked nutters running around town again. I care that my own wife doesn't seem to take my feelings into consideration enough to bother coming on a date with me."

"Jaime," she said, her heart breaking for him. "I _do _care, it's just... you know what I'm like. I got so wrapped up with the case and with Margaery's issues that what we had planned just escaped me! If my phone hadn't run out of charge and I had got one of your messages, I would have been there in an instant!"

"You know that's almost worse?" whined Jaime. "That I have to plead and beg for the slightest scrap of care or attention from you?"

She tried to pull him close, but he resisted. "You don't have to beg. I'm so sorry. I don't really have any other excuse other than the fact I'm a total idiot, but I do love you, and I do care about you, and I _will _make it up to you, because I love being your wife, and I love _you._"

"Mmmm," he hummed sceptically, "it doesn't feel like it sometimes."

"I _do,_" whispered Brienne, cupping his face with her hands. "So much. And I'm so sorry. I know I'm not the greatest wife sometimes, just like you aren't always the greatest husband..."

That incensed him, and he stepped back, "hey, when I am not a great husband?"

_When you let Melara Hetherspoon drape herself all over you, _Brienne thought bitterly. However, she knew now was not the time to bring that up, so she tried to restrain herself.

"You know... just sometimes..."

"Sometimes?" he growled, his anger overtaking him once more. "Funnily enough, right now, I don't care when I've been a bad husband. _You stood me up, _Brienne, and you don't even seem that sorry about it."

"I am... I _am_..."

"Do you know what?" snapped Jaime. "I don't really want to hear it! I don't even want to _look _at you right now. I'm going to go for a walk."

Brienne took a deep breath, trying to find a way to manage this properly. "I understand, I deserve your anger..."

"Stop being understanding!" he cried. "I want to be angry, and you won't let me!"

Brienne smiled in spite of herself. "I _will _let you. Shout and scream all you want. I can take it."

"I don't want to shout and scream at you," he shouted, somewhat ironically. "I want you to see me! I want you to notice when I'm upset and _do _something about it. I want you to realise that I am insecure sometimes too, and it's not all about _you._"

"Okay," said Brienne, trying her best to work with that. "I can see you're upset and angry right now, and I am really _sorry. _I shouldn't have stood you up, and if you need some time to have me not in your face, I totally understand. If you want to cool off, I get that. Even if you want to have some hate sex, that's perfectly okay too. Whatever you need from me right now, I will do, because I love you and I want to make it right and show you I'm sorry."

Some of the fury went out of Jaime's eyes at that declaration, and his stance became a little more relaxed. With his expression softened, Jaime muttered, "I want a bit of time alone right now. I... I... think I might go out for a walk."

"No," murmured Brienne. "It's cold out. You can stay here. I'll get out of your hair."

"But it's late," he said gently.

"Yeah, and I'm in the wrong."

Walking over to him, she planted a kiss on his cheek. She could feel the tension in his jaw, so she withdrew quickly. "When you've cooled off, we'll talk." Jaime let out a huff, which sounded disappointed, so she gave him another kiss.

"We'll talk. I promise."

* * *

Leaving Jaime to stew back at the house, Brienne went for a walk around the village. All things considered, it was an absolutely beautiful night; the stars were bright, and the moon was like a silver penny hanging in the sky. Even so, Brienne barely noticed, because she was too busy kicking herself.

_Why am I such an idiot? _she thought. _I've got a lovely husband and I treat him badly over and over again._

Pulling her jacket around herself, she tried not to shiver, and focussed on coming up with a plan to make everything right with Jaime again.

_I've got to get the Baby Making Spreadsheet to work in a way that is acceptable to both of us. He's got to feel that I love him, and I _do _love him, and that I'm doing this to give him a baby, but also because I want to have sex with him. And I have to put away these thoughts about Melara. They are bitter and jealous and not befitting of me. Jaime loves _me _and if I dwell on them, I will only push him away... and if I get too involved in this case, I'll distance myself from him. I love my job, but ultimately my life with Jaime is the most important thing to me. I need to put everything into making that work. And I can't let myself get jealous of Margaery. Just because she has what I want, I can't let that ruin yet another important relationship in my life._

Brienne was so involved in her own thoughts - of Jaime and Melara and Margaery - that she only realised she had walked so far, right up to the High Street, when she heard a voice.

"What's a nice girl like you doing out here at a time like this?"

Spinning round, Brienne suddenly noticed Aurane Waters leaning up against the outside wall of _Biscuits for All Occasions_. Looking like some lost bad boy from a Hollywood movie, he was hiding in the shadows, his face only illuminated by the cigarette he was smoking. In the moonlight, his fair hair looked almost silver, which was a stark contrast from the black suit, black shirt, and black brogues he was wearing. As he grinned at her, Brienne's heart skipped a beat. She hadn't noticed how delicately beautiful he was before. Perhaps it was his handsome face, perhaps his easy tone, but, even though Brienne didn't know Aurane - not outside the SARC meetings at least - Brienne suddenly felt the urge to talk to someone who wasn't in her usual circle. It would be good to take things off her chest to someone who wouldn't have some pre-set opinion on her relationship with Jaime. And, even though it was late and cold, Aurane was wearing an expression that suggested he was willing to talk.

"I've just had a fight with my husband," she said, the truth seeming so easy to vocalise when it was late and she was hiding in the dark.

"Not a bad one, I hope," he replied, dropping his cigarette then stubbing it out with his heel.

"Pretty bad," admitted Brienne sadly. "I promised him I would go out for dinner with him tonight to talk about our issues, but then I accidentally stood him up."

Aurane smiled mischievously. "How does one accidentally stand their husband up?"

"When one discovers that their best friend is pregnant, while one has been secretly worrying about if they could ever give their husband a baby, while said husband is being hit on by an overfriendly work colleague," she replied tartly.

"So you stood him up on purpose then?" he said, totally serious.

Brienne furrowed her brow. "Of course not! It's just I..."

"Subconsciously didn't really want to talk about your issues?"

Brienne folded her arms in annoyance, feeling tricked that she hadn't realised she was talking to an amateur psychologist. "I'm talking to _you, _aren't I?"

"I am not your husband as far as I recall," replied Aurane, raising his eyebrow. "What's his name? Jaime?"

That Aurane had brought Jaime into the conversation in a more personal way beyond calling him _husband _suddenly made Brienne feel uneasy. "Yes, his name is Jaime. Have you met him?"

"I've seen him around," admitted Aurane. "He's always hanging out with Melara Hetherspoon, isn't he?"

That comment put Brienne's back up in an instant. She had been trying so valiantly to keep Melara out of the picture all day, especially when she was talking and arguing with Jaime, but here was Aurane dragging her up again, like a psychic at a seance. "No, he's not. It's just him and Melara are police partners. They don't _hang out _any more than they need to. Not outside work."

Aurane waved his hands in a conciliatory way. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to suggest anything. It's just when I first asked Melara to come to Orton's party with me, I hesitated because I thought she was already taken. I'm glad to know that I've got a chance."

"You... you... you... thought she was taken?" stammered Brienne, not liking what that insinuated. "Why?"

Aurane fixed her with a small smile. "Melara and Jaime seem so... close."

"Close," repeated Brienne, her heart suddenly beating faster. Part of her wanted to discard Aurane's suspicions, but then again, he had attended Orton Merryweather's party with Melara and was, therefore, perhaps the person who knew her best in the whole village. Had he picked up on something that Brienne was trying to dismiss as jealousy?

_Irrational thoughts, _she tried to tell herself. _Irrational thoughts._

"In what way?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level.

"Oh," smiled Aurane casually. "The touching. The joking. The _looking. _It's clearly all in my head, though, because I wasn't aware that they were just police partners. I'm glad you told me; it has put my mind at ease."

_It hasn't put my mind at ease, _thought Brienne desperately. _Are they even closer when I'm not here?_

Desperately wanting to change the subject, Brienne gave him a tight smile. "Let's not talk about Jaime and Melara. Why are you out here so late?"

Aurane gave her a handsome smile that a woman who wasn't so in love with husband might find intriguing. "Oh, just enjoying the night air. I've had a stressful day at work."

"At work? What do you do?" she asked. Brienne knew he was some sort of businessman, but did not know what field he worked in exactly.

"Antiques," replied Aurane casually, shrugging his shoulders. "Buying and selling. I have an eye for _unique_ items. Recently, I've spotted something especially interesting and have spent most of the day trying to acquire it."

"What is it?" inquired Brienne, curious.

"Now, that would be spilling all my secrets," he replied, the corners of his mouth curling up in a smile.

Brienne felt a little uneasy at that statement. "You have secrets?"

"Don't we all?" he grinned. "You go on late night walks when you've had a fight with a husband. I have a high stakes job. Jaime and Melara are _close._"

Suddenly, Brienne felt the urge to get as far away as possible from Aurane Waters. In mentioning Jaime and Melara, he was teasing and tormenting Brienne, but she could not quite tell whether it was with truth or lies. Maybe he was drunk and just wanted to hurt somebody. Maybe it was too late for rational discussion, here in the darkness, but looking into Aurane's eyes Brienne realised she wanted nothing more than home and Jaime, which were almost the same thing.

"It was good to see you Aurane," Brienne said stiffly, "I suppose we'll meet again at the next SARC meeting."

"I suppose we will," he smiled, his eyes narrowing. "Are you feeling the sudden need to go back to your husband?"

Feeling uncomfortable, Brienne replied, "perhaps."

"Good. My reverse psychology worked." In the moonlight, his eyes seemed to glitter with pride. "I'll see you later, Inspector Lannister-Tarth."

"Yes," she said distantly, before taking her opportunity, turning on her heel, and running into the night.

* * *

When Brienne got home, shaken by her talk with Aurane, the cottage was dark. Shucking off her coat, she tried to be as quiet as possible, even though she knew she wanted nothing more than her husband's arms around her. As she arrived outside their bedroom, Brienne took a deep breath before gently pushing the door open. A shaft of moonlight shone through a gap in the curtains, illuminating Jaime, who was lying in their bed, shirtless, staring at the ceiling. When he saw her, he snapped his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep.

_I deserve that, _Brienne told herself sadly.

Trying to make as little sound as possible, she took off her clothes. As she did so, she noticed that Jaime opened one of his eyes ever so slightly, trying to take a peek. In spite of their situation, Brienne could not stop herself being overwhelmed by a wave of affection for him - sneaky sex fiend that he was - even though, when she shuffled into bed beside him perfectly naked, he snapped his eyes shut once more.

"I know you are awake," she whispered, as she cuddled up next to him and nuzzled his shoulder.

_Mine, _she thought distantly. _Not Melara's. Mine._

"No, I'm not," he replied, his eyes still closed. "And I'm still really cross with you."

In an attempt to draw him into conversation, Brienne began to run her fingers through his chest hair, taking the time to draw little hearts on his chest. "I know you are, and I know I deserve it. I'm sorry."

Leaning forward, she planted a kiss on his neck. It made him shudder. "Don't do that. I won't be angry with you if you do that."

She did it again. "I'm sorry."

"Brienne..."

And again, although this time she aimed for the sensitive spot behind his ear and began to laver him with open mouthed kisses. He let out a quiet little moan, which told her he was open to this form of apology.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his hair, breathing in the intoxicating scent of expensive shampoo and _Jaime, _before taking his earlobe into her mouth and sucking gently. At the sensation, Jaime moaned again, and this time she felt the rumbling vibration against her palm flat on his chest.

_Fuck, I love this man, _she thought.

Trying to show him how sorry she was, she began to run a trail of kisses across his skin - from his ear, to his neck, to his jaw - until her teasing eventually encouraged him to turn and face her, kissing her full on the mouth. When they broke apart, she gave him a little smile.

"Do you want to have hate sex?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, because I could never hate you."

That statement warmed her heart so much that she broke out into a happy grin. "What about _I'm really, really sorry Jaime _sex?"

He let out a little chuckle at that. "That might be nice."

It was more than nice, because it was always amazing with him. As she kissed him, she reached down and began to stroke his cock, slowly and reverently and full of care. "How do you want me?" she murmured, trying to ensure he knew this was all about him, all _for _him.

"On top," he groaned, pulling her in for another kiss.

Brienne did not wait a moment. Climbing on top of him, Brienne straddled Jaime's hips and lowered herself down onto him, slowly relishing the feeling of him filling her, stretching her, hot and hard inside her. It was perfect; Brienne never felt so complete as she did when she had him like _this. _As she began to slowly ride him, grinding her hips against him to ensure that he could feel her wanting him, loving him, Jaime sat up and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her deeply as he did so. Needing to hear him - his heart, his softness - Brienne ran her fingers through his hair and was rewarded with a satisfied moan sounded into her mouth.

_Oh, Jaime, my love..._

There was a limit to how many times she could say sorry before it got irritating, but not to how many times she could kiss him and hold him, how many times she could love him like this. It was the greatest pleasure in her world, as only she got to see him like this; the flushed flesh, the passionate intense expression, the hungry look in his eye. Only she got to feel him inside her, kiss him as she rode his cock, run her fingers through his hair and feel him trying to get closer, closer, _closer. _Only she, his wife, got to climb this mountain with him, feel his clumsy fingers touching the point where their bodies joined, and hear him whisper, "wench, come for me. Come for me..."

Afterwards, when they laid together, satiated and exhausted, she enjoyed the feeling of him softening inside her. Only Brienne, his wife, got to feel Jaime like that.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his ear, thinking she could convey it more in the warmth of her breath than her words.

"I could be persuaded to forgive you," Jaime replied, a hint of a laugh in his voice. "If you say sorry like _this._"

"I'll do it again and again," she promised earnestly, pressing a kiss to his lips, "until I earn it."

Jaime smiled. "I'll hold you to it."

As she watched him fall asleep, she kissed his temple, his nose, his forehead, refusing to move from the soft cocoon of warmth they had created together. Even though she was in this safe bubble, Aurane's words came back to her: _Melara and Jaime seem so... close._

_They might be close, _Brienne told herself, pulling Jaime against her, _she might get to see him laugh, hear his jokes, watch him smile..._

_But only I know him like this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked that - it was a bit less angst and a little more fluff (which I have repeatedly promised in the tags)... I also got in some references to Big Cop 1, which I enjoyed :D Considering all that, I would love to hear what you think in a comment. It makes me a better writer!
> 
> Next chapter... Brienne starts to investigate the mysterious goings-on in Casterly...


	10. Crime and Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne begins investigating the death of Senelle Jones...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for coming back for this chapter! Now... after a couple of very heavy Jaime/Brienne chapters, this one is going to be focussed a little more on the mystery in Casterly, so I hope you like it (although there are also JB moments)! If you are enjoying it (or if you are not) I would love to hear from you in the form of comments or kudos!

Jaime was still cross with Brienne on Sunday, so she tried to ameliorate him by bringing him breakfast in bed, doing his washing for him, and kissing him a lot. It seemed to work, because by Monday morning he was pretty much back to his normal self, and they even walked to work hand in hand. Brienne felt so happy that he had found it in his heart to forgive her after she had been so bad to him, that she made herself a promise.

_I won't let things get out of control like this again. _

That pledge was tested first thing Monday morning when they turned up at the station and the first sound that Brienne heard was a twittering, simpering laugh. Without even seeing her, Brienne knew she would soon be forced to endure the company of Melara fucking Hetherspoon. Almost unconsciously, she tightened her grip on Jaime's hand.

On entering the staffroom, Brienne found Melara sitting on one of the desks, half in the process of letting down her tresses of dark hair, only to do them up again. She was talking to Ilyn - or lecturing Ilyn - about good hair management for female police officers. To Brienne's surprise, Ilyn was nodding along happily, as if it was an endlessly fascinating topic of conversation. Brienne thought to sneak past her with Jaime and take him into her office, but at his arrival Melara's face lit up, catching his attention.

"Oh, lion cub, you're here," she grinned, latching her dark eyes onto Jaime.

"Good morning Melara," he smiled back, letting go of Brienne's hand as he went to go and perch on the desk next to the High Chief Bitch. "How was your weekend?"

_She gets to see him smile, _Brienne reminded herself, _but only I get to see him in bed. There's nothing to be jealous of._

"Great," smiled Melara, moving subtly so her body and Jaime's were lined up perfectly beside each other, touching. "I went to Lannisport last night to go and see a show at _The Gate Theatre_. It was this psychological thriller drama about police officers called _Westeros Vice_. I've never screamed so loud before! I think you would really like it. If you were going to consider getting tickets..."

Right at that moment, Margaery came bowling across the room. "Get off the desk, Melara," she said forcefully. "Nobody wants your feet on the office chairs."

Melara's smile fell. "Margaery, I..."

"Calm down, Margaery," interjected Jaime, rolling his eyes, "I put my feet on the seats all the time and you've never complained before."

"Yeah, but that's different," hissed Margaery.

Jaime looked confused. "Why? Melara is one of the team."

Margaery glanced at Brienne very briefly, clearly looking for some support, but Brienne was too busy being struck dumb at the easy way Jaime had slipped into being Melara's chief supporter. When Brienne didn't say anything, Margaery backed down slightly. Concurring, she said, "I'm just fed up of finding dirt on the seats, Jaime, whether it's from your feet or _hers_."

At the end of the disagreement, Margaery turned away from Melara and Jaime, and walked over to Brienne to pull her close. Once she was near, Margaery whispered in her ear, "fight _back. _Play by Girl World rules."

"Girl World rules," repeated Brienne as she looked over at her husband and the homewrecker. Melara was clearly using sneaky tactics, as Brienne had to try and ignore the twist in her stomach as the Chief Bitch placed her hand on Jaime's forearm.

"Thanks for defending me," she smiled, "I didn't know I had a brave knight looking after me."

Jaime laughed. "What can I say? I'm sworn to protect damsels in distress."

When Melara answered Jaime's comment with her stupid, simpering laugh and once more touched Jaime's arm, it was as if a volcano erupted inside Brienne. "STAFF MEETING! MY OFFICE! NOW!" she bellowed. "EVERYONE!"

The whole team looked at her as if she had gone slightly mad.

"Calm down, Chief," grumbled Robb Stark. "I like my eardrums. Do you have to try and pop them this early on a Monday morning?"

"Yes, I do," hissed Brienne, "everyone get in my office now. There is a staff meeting. I've got _important _stuff to discuss with you all."

"Like what?"

"Important stuff, okay?" snapped Brienne. "Do as I say!"

The whole room broke out into grumbles as they started making their way to Brienne's office, with Robb Arryn slipping out so he could go and get Jon from the front desk. At Brienne's order, Margaery shunted herself in between Melara and Jaime to separate the two and pressure the former to get her arse into Brienne's office. Meanwhile, Jaime himself turned to Brienne, wearing a confused expression.

"Is everything okay, wench?"

"Fine," she said sharply, "absolutely bloody fine."

He held his hands up in mock surrender, "okay, I was only asking," before following Margaery and Melara in the direction of her office. Once he was gone, Brienne held back for a moment, trying to steady her breathing.

_There's nothing to be jealous of. He loves me._

Once she had beaten that into her skull a few times by repeating it over and over like an actress learning her lines, Brienne made her way to her office holding her head high, determined not to let a scheming bitch like Melara get to her. Slipping into the room, she was gratified to see that Margaery had planted herself firmly between Jaime and Melara, fixing the latter with an insipid grin. Laughing to herself, Brienne sat down and looked at her team proudly, all present and correct apart from Robb Arryn and Jon.

"Right, so, we might as well start because we have important things to discuss, particularly after the disaster that was Orton's party on Friday night."

"I don't know if it was a _disaster_," interjected Robb Stark, seemingly disapproving of the way Orton had blamed the Casterly Constabulary for the issues at his own party.

"More like a bit of excitement," grinned Pod. "That's the first proper action I've seen since I joined the Police Force."

"Police _Service, _Pod," Brienne corrected, "that's what..."

"Official guidelines say," said the rest of the team in unison, almost wearily.

"Good to see I've rubbed off on you all," smiled Brienne. "Now, considering everything that happened at Orton's party, I thought it was probably best we put a plan in action to find out what is going on with the Brotherhood."

"Why is it that big a deal?" grumbled the Hound. "They were just protesting."

"Yes," concurred Brienne, "but there's protesting and the there's breaking into a private property and perhaps committing theft. We have to get to the bottom of this; Orton will never let it go otherwise."

"How are we going to do that?" asked Robb Arryn.

Trying not to feel very clever, Brienne laid out her plan. "I think we need a shake-up of the patrol rotas." Shooting a glance at Margaery, who gave her a very pleased grin in return, Brienne said, "I think they are getting a little staid, so from now on, the Hound and Pod will patrol together, and Jaime, Melara, and Margaery will be a group. How does that sound?"

Margaery was clearly all for the excellent hand Brienne had just played in the Girl World battle, so she chirped, "sounds perfect with me, Chief."

Jaime shrugged, "It's fine with me too."

When Melara said nothing, Brienne purposefully turned to her and asked, "is that okay with you, Sergeant Hetherspoon?"

Melara gave her a tight smile, which Brienne took as her opponent's recognition of her checkmate. "Of course. It will be nice to have someone else with us when Jaime and I are out on patrol together... it's just..." She went to hold a dramatic pause, her big eyes wide.

"What?" replied Brienne, her mouth a thin line.

Melara took her time, shooting a glance at Jaime before returning to Brienne. "It's just my psychic advisor told me it is always better for me to work in twos rather than threes, so maybe it is best if Margaery stays with the Hound and Pod."

Brienne gave her the best insincere smile she could muster before saying, "it's a good thing I think psychic advisors are a load of bollocks then."

Melara's conciliatory expression disappeared immediately, and only turned bitter when Jaime let out a bark of laughter at Brienne's bluntness. When that lead to Melara giving him a wounded, pouting expression, Jaime rolled his eyes affectionately and said, "come on, don't look so down, Melara. It will be fun going on patrol with Margaery, she's a right laugh."

"Yes," concurred Margaery, grinning, "and I can keep an eye on things, just to help you two be the best _police partners _it's possible to be."

Melara and Margaery shared a quick glance that saw them both recognise that they were playing a game of which Jaime was not aware at all, and Brienne had to resist the urge to go and give Margaery a high five at their tiny Girl World win. With their small victory confirmed, Brienne turned to the other officers. "With the new patrol rota sorted, that just leaves Ilyn on paperwork..."

At that moment, Jon and Robb Arryn shuffled into the room, slotting in behind Jaime and Melara. "Sorry we're late, Chief," said Jon, skirting round Jaime so he could see Brienne, "it's just I was held up in the reception because we've had a call from Jorah Mormont."

"Oh?" replied Brienne, intrigued. "What does he want?"

"Apparently, someone broke into _Biscuits for All Occasions _last night and stole an antique cuckoo clock that hung over the counter that used to belong to his mother. He's quite upset about it; not because of how much it's worth, but because of its sentimental value."

Reacting to this new piece of information, Brienne turned to her newly assembled patrol groups. "Jaime, Margaery, Melara, why don't you go down to _Biscuits for All Occasions _and find out what's going on?"

Jaime nodded, but then said, "what about all the stuff with the Brotherhood? Won't we be needed for that?"

"Don't worry my love," replied Brienne, trying not to look at Melara. "I can delegate that to others. You go and deal with Jorah. You might even get a free biscuit out of it."

Jaime stepped forward grinning, "if I do, I'll make sure to bring back a heart-shaped shortbread for you."

"And I'll make sure to eat it obliviously," she laughed, standing up to give him a quick kiss.

"That's my wench," he purred as the rest of the team groaned. Brienne couldn't help but smile at Jaime's rather public declaration of love - in front of Melara no less - as the three sergeants left the office, especially as Melara looked like she wanted to stab someone.

_He loves me, _she reminded herself. _He loves me._

Once the three of them left the room, it allowed Brienne to fix her mind on the bigger issues at hand. "Now, that leaves Pod and the Hound to go up and use the speed camera gun on motorists on the dual carriageway."

The Hound rolled his eyes. "Great, just what I want to spend my Monday doing."

"I'm glad you enjoy your job so much, Sandor," said Brienne sarcastically.

"It's Monday morning," the Hound growled. "Cut me some slack."

After the Hound and Pod traipsed off, Jon and Ilyn also went to take up their duties on front desk and with his paperwork respectively. It only left the two detectives - Robb and Robb - in the room with Brienne.

"Now, as you two are Casterly's favourite detectives, I'll bring you up to speed," said Brienne. Starting with Senelle's fit on the night of the party, Brienne told Robb and Robb everything she had learnt over the weekend - the unnatural nature of Senelle's death, the Brotherhood graffiti dotted round the village, the names of suspected Brotherhood members she had gathered - before giving them instructions on what to do next. "I would like you two to go down to Wyman Manderly's Catering Company and interview Senelle's colleagues. I want to know who she was friends with, if she had any enemies, what was happening in her personal life. Anything of interest might give us some insight to what is going on here."

Robb Stark furrowed his brow. "You really think someone killed Senelle? What evidence have we really got other than a suspicion of Samwell Tarly's?"

"We don't really know yet, it's true," conceded Brienne, "but I am going to send off an email authorising a medical investigation into the circumstances of Ms Jones' death, so we can know for certain how natural it was."

Robb Stark nodded, as if agreeing that was a sensible course of action, whereas Robb Arryn still looked sceptical. "Isn't this all a bit excessive, Chief?" he asked. "I mean... just because we once had a murderous cult at the heart of the village, it doesn't mean there's one now."

"I agree, it is not a certainty," said Brienne levelly, "but as I believe I said to you when you refused to believe the lack of skid marks at Renly and Loras' crash was accidental... you are detectives, why don't you try detecting something for once in your lives?"

* * *

Once the rest of her colleagues had been sent out on their duties for the day, Brienne sat down at her desk and made sure the investigation was thoroughly put into motion. After emailing through the forms authorising an autopsy on Senelle, Brienne rung the coroner to confirm the details, emphasising the importance of her case. "Through discussions with a paramedic who was on the scene, it seems that Ms Jones' death was really unexpected and perhaps _unnatural. _It is imperative we get to the bottom of this case."

After she had spoken to the coroner, Brienne set about emailing the security at Lannis House requesting the security footage both from the night of Orton's party and on the evening the Pufferfish were stolen - she thought it was useful to get both requests in at once - but then, to her disappointment, received a slightly annoyed reply refusing her. Not giving up, she then tried ringing Belwas directly after finding his number on the Lannis House website, but only got the answerphone machine. Brienne was about to throw her work phone across the room in irritation when her mobile buzzed in her pocket.

_Arya: _Hey Brienne, it's Arya. Sorry I haven't been in contact much lately... busy life, ya know? If you wanna talk, Gendry, Hot Pie, and I will be hanging out in the park by the ice cream kiosk at around midday. See you there!

From the depths of supreme irritation, Brienne suddenly found herself vaulting into excitement. Talking to the local hoodlums might finally give Brienne the chance to get a lead on the case; they knew Thoros, were members of the Brotherhood, and had perhaps been the last people to see Senelle alive. Brienne was out of her chair and had put on her coat before she could say _conspiracy._

As promised, Arya, Gendry, and Hot Pie were all waiting at a bench by the ice cream kiosk just after lunch, sharing a massive knickerbocker glory. When Brienne scooted into the extra space next to Arya, she passed her a spare spoon.

"Tuck in comrade, I feel we're going to be here for a while."

It had been three years since Arya, Gendry, and Hot Pie had been instrumental in bringing down a murderous cult. In that time, Brienne had become close enough to them to call them her rather unorthodox friends. Brienne and Arya were especially close, although, recently, Arya had been a little distant. Suspecting it may be something to do with her involvement in the Brotherhood, Brienne was determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, because it had suddenly become personal.

As Brienne took a scoop of raspberry ripple ice cream and a glace cherry, Gendry smiled at her. "So, Chief, what can we do for you?"

"You can answer some questions for me," Brienne said through a mouthful of ice cream. "Firstly, what were you three doing at Orton Merryweather's party on Friday? Secondly, what do you know about the Brotherhood Without Banners? And finally, what did Senelle say in the projection room before she had a fit?"

"Calm down Inspector Gadget," complained Hot Pie. "One question at a time."

Not quite getting the Inspector Gadget reference, Brienne pressed on regardless. "Okay, let's start with question one: what were you guys doing at Orton Merryweather's party?"

"Isn't it obvious?" interjected Arya. "We were protesting! Did you know that his HS3 project will impact the natural environment in Casterly _enormously? _The village is one of the most important sites for the blooming of rare red helleborine orchids in the country. If Orton Merryweather succeeds in sticking a fat trainline through it, that will ruin the village forever!"

Brienne could not help but laugh. "You sound a little like the NWA. Weren't they against change? Didn't they want the village to stay the same forever?"

"This is different," insisted Arya, scowling at the thought of being put in the same category as Cersei Lannister. "This is about conserving nature, what we've actually got, instead of just bowing to big money all the time!"

"Is that what the Brotherhood is all about?" asked Brienne. "Protecting the environment? Protecting the village?"

Arya nodded. "That and other things. Thoros thinks that political localism is the way forward, and that workers should band together in a co-operative way to take on big business and look after the smallfolk. Orton Merryweather is the worst type of capitalist profiteer; all he cares about is having his name on a sign and selling out what is good about Casterly to big business."

"When did you become so radical?" Brienne asked, genuinely interested.

To Brienne's surprise, Gendry answered for her. "I met Thoros when I started working as a mechanic in Lannisport; he owned _The Red Flag Bookshop _next door. He ran a reading group during my lunch break that I decided to join. Arya was visiting one day, and she came along too... Hot Pie followed not long after."

"And that's how you fell in with the Brotherhood?" inquired Brienne. "Through the reading group?"

"The reading group _is _the Brotherhood," said Arya emphatically. "We all decided we were fed up sitting on our arses reading Marx, Engels, and Adorno over and over again and decided to do something a little more meaningful! Something with impact!"

"So, you decided to crash Orton's party?"

"We weren't crashing a party," tutted Arya. "It was an example of direct action."

"Where someone _died_," said Brienne gently.

Arya's nostrils flared with anger. "That was nothing to do with _us_. Thoros wanted it all to be as above board as possible; he even warned Orton Merryweather about what we were going to do. He wanted to give him a chance to change his HS3 plans."

Brienne's mouth dropped open. "Orton _knew _that the Brotherhood were going to crash the party?" It sounded so unbelievable considering how angry Orton had been immediately afterwards with her and her colleagues; had it been a set up the whole time?"

At Brienne's question, Arya went a little red. "Well, I don't know _exactly _what Thoros told Orton - you'd have to ask Thoros himself - but at the Brotherhood meeting the week before we all agreed that trying to persuade Orton to pull out of the HS3 plan would be our first tactic. Only if he refused to listen would we try something more direct. Why take part in direct action when words could have been enough to persuade him?"

"Yet that plan failed," concluded Brienne, putting the pieces together, "and during the stunt, Senelle came into the projection room and tried to stop you playing Thoros' video..."

"No," Gendry interrupted, shaking his head. "Hot Pie and I had just started playing the video when there was a knock at the door. I had told Hot Pie to bar the door as we didn't want any interruptions, so I tried to ignore it, but he didn't do it properly or something as the next second, Senelle had barged her way into the room."

Through a slurp of ice cream, Hot Pie supported Gendry's story. "Once she got in the room, I told her she couldn't stop us because we were playing this video on behalf of the Brotherhood, but then she started saying weird things."

"Weird things?" asked Brienne. "Like what?"

Hot Pie shot Gendry a nervous look, which caused the latter to pick up the rest of the story. "She was sort of staggering and slurring her words, so I thought she was a bit drunk, but then she started complaining about her lips, saying they were tingling and felt weird. She was also sort of... dribbling. I didn't really know what to make of it, but before I could say anything, she collapsed and started fitting. By the time I had taken my balaclava off to have a proper look at her, you and Jaime came charging in and took control of the situation."

Putting her spoon down from her ice cream, Brienne got out her notebook and started jotting down everything that Arya, Gendry, and Hot Pie had just said. Arya narrowed her eyes. "Why are you writing in your notebook? What's going on?"

Brienne fixed her old friend with a serious look. "I have reason to suspect that Senelle's death was not entirely natural, and I am just trying to get a better understanding of what went on at Orton's party that night. You've given me a lot to think about; Orton clearly knew what was going to happen during the party yet acted as if he were strangely shocked about the whole situation, while Senelle was obviously experiencing symptoms beyond a normal epileptic fit. This has been extremely helpful, thank you."

Arya was ameliorated by that. "If it helps find out what happened to Senelle, I'm glad I can help you... it's just..."

"What?"

As Arya looked at Brienne, she wore an impossibly sincere expression. "I know the Brotherhood had nothing to do with Senelle's death. She was one of us, one of the smallfolk. Why would we want to hurt her?"

Brienne gave her old friend a reassuring smile; she knew Arya, Gendry, and Hot Pie would have had nothing to do with this, even if she could not yet be one hundred percent sure about Thoros Myr. "I'm sure you are right," said Brienne gently. "Now, come on. Let's finish this ice cream, and you can tell me all about your new job at _Biscuits for All Occasions."_

* * *

When Brienne returned to the station, armed with Arya, Gendry, and Hot Pie's testimonies, she found the Robbs waiting for her in her office. To her surprise, the two of them were huddled together, whispering animatedly. The second she entered the room, Robb Stark gave her an excited smile. "Chief, you are going to be pleased with us."

"Am I?" she replied, "have you found out something interesting?"

Not expecting it to be a bigger bombshell than the fact that Orton Merryweather seemingly knew the Brotherhood were going to crash his party, Brienne was intrigued when Robb's smile broadened. "From talking to one of the chefs, we managed to discover that Senelle's best friend, Jocelyn Swyft, worked at the hat shop in town, so we decided to pay her a visit."

"Good," beamed Brienne, pleased that the Robbs had taken the initiative for once, as her excitement began to build. "And did she have anything to say?"

Robb Arryn matched Robb Stark's enthusiastic expression. "Yes. She told us something _very _interesting."

"What?" replied Brienne, her heart beating faster with anticipation. "Don't keep me on the edge of my seat!"

Robb Arryn shot Robb Stark a look, prompting the latter into speech. "Jocelyn told us that, ever since she got out of prison, Senelle has been in a secret relationship with _Orton Merryweather."_

Brienne's mouth fell open. "Senelle and _Orton."_

"Yep," grinned Robb Stark. "Scandalous, isn't it? The next Mayor of Lannisport, shagging someone other than his wife."

The pieces started to rapidly connect in Brienne's mind, all of it centring around Orton and Taena's unhappy marriage. "When I went to Lannis House to scout it out after Wyman Manderly's pufferfish went missing, I heard Orton and Taena having a _huge _argument. She was accusing him of sleeping with some mysterious woman at a hotel in Lannisport and was threatening to go to the papers; she must have been talking about Senelle."

Robb Stark's eyes went wide. "So you're telling me that Orton's wife _knew _he was having an affair."

"Seems that way," concurred Brienne, allowing that information to settle in. It appeared the Merryweathers both knew much more than they were letting on.

"Well," said Robb, letting out a whistle between his teeth. "We perhaps have a suspect. Taena Merryweather might be the first person in all this who actually has a motive in wanting Senelle dead."

That suggestion hit Brienne hard. She did not necessarily _like _Jaime's ex, but she had watched Taena and Senelle on the SARC committee the past couple of months. Their relationship had appeared almost cordial. If Taena had had her suspicions about Senelle, they either did not predate the fight Brienne had witnessed, or she was just very good at not letting her feelings show.

"I don't know," replied Brienne, mulling the situation over. "Taena has always seemed quite _forthright. _Do you really think she would deal with a problem like Senelle in this violent way? She did threaten Orton with going to the papers after all; isn't that drama much more her style?"

Robb Arryn shrugged. "I don't know her; I couldn't say either way. It would probably be good to talk to someone who knows her well."

"Good job we have access to her ex-boyfriend then," said Brienne, even though she knew that having that conversation with Jaime would be tough.

"Do we?" interjected Robb Stark, surprised. "Who?"

"My husband," said Brienne wryly.

The Robbs outright laughed at that comment, before Robb Arryn smirked, "he gets around, doesn't he?"

Brienne felt a familiar twist in her stomach. "What's that supposed to mean?"

At the sharp tone of her question, Robb Arryn went very red. "Nothing boss, absolutely nothing."

Considering Robb Arryn's embarrassment, Brienne dismissed the detectives from her office, trying not to let Arryn's words overwhelm her.

_They don't mean anything, _she told herself, _it's just a stupid joke, nothing more. _

Her mind had totally turned from thoughts of the case to thoughts of Jaime when Robb Stark called over to her from by the door, recapturing her attention and pulling her back to the present.

"Chief?"

"Mmmm?"

"Margaery told you, didn't she?"

Focussing on Robb rather than the image of Jaime in her mind's eye, Brienne asked, "about what?"

Letting out a small sigh, Robb said, "the baby."

If thoughts of Jaime had an effect on her, mention of what she had failed to give him felt even worse to Brienne. It was bad enough that her and Jaime were unable to have children, but watching Robb and Margaery have what she so longed for? It was almost too much. However, Brienne decided to put aside her feelings as she tried to smile at Robb, wanting to be a supportive friend. "Yes, she did. Congratulations."

"Thanks, Chief," he said, his tone devoid of genuine excitement.

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him, not liking the dark cloud the mention of the baby had brought over his mood. "Is everything alright?"

Robb gave her a weary smile. "Yeah, it's just Margaery doesn't think I'm going to be a good dad. I don't know what I've done to give her that impression, but she thinks I'm too flaky, too irresponsible, and only along for the fun. I want to show her I'm not."

Somewhat surprised that Robb had it in him to be so committed, Brienne gave him an encouraging nod. "Then show her. I'm sure she'll come around if you demonstrate you can be there for her and your child. It's actions, not words, that count in the end."

"Thanks," he said again, his expression brightening somewhat. "Actually, I'm going to organise a gathering for Margaery on Friday at mine. It's not going to be anything too major, but there will be friends, family, colleagues, nibbles, and food. I know it will mean a great deal to her if you and Jaime came... and it will hopefully demonstrate to her that I understand what is important to her in her life, and that I want to be there for her and our baby."

Brienne smiled; heart warmed on Margaery's behalf. "That sounds great, Robb. I'll check with Jaime, but I'm sure we would both love to come."

"Cool," replied Robb, looking a little calmer. "Thanks for the support."

"You are welcome," she said, as Robb swept from the room, taking a sliver of what Brienne wanted most in the whole world with him.

* * *

For most of the rest of the afternoon, Brienne tried to distract herself from sad thoughts of Jaime, Melara, and Margaery's baby in order to do what she did best; solve a case. While the other officers were still out, Brienne went to the evidence room and found the pin board that had remained almost untouched for three years. On it, was everything Brienne had used to piece together Casterly's last murder mystery, and she was determined to do it again.

Once she had it back in her office, she went about removing the details from the old case; the picture of Cersei Lannister with _bladder control issues _inscribed on her forehead, the photos of the Baratheon-Tyrell crash site with the absent skidmarks, and Tyrion's report on the mysterious stash of guns found on Walder Frey's farm. In their place, Brienne stuck a picture of Senelle Jones that she had found on the internet, and then started surrounding it with post-it notes with questions and ideas.

_How long had Senelle and Orton been having an affair?_

_How long has Taena been aware of the affair?_

_What exactly caused Senelle's death? Epilepsy? Allergic reaction? Poison?_

_Why did Orton Merryweather not disclose his meeting with Thoros Myr?_

_Did the theft of Orton's signet ring have anything to do with Senelle's death?_

Thinking there was too much writing and not enough colour on her pinboard, Brienne decided to go and hunt for some string to connect these disparate points together, heading out of her office and to the storeroom to find some. However, Brienne was derailed from her mission when she passed the staff kitchen, as she heard some wailing coming from inside. Peeking through the gap in the ajar door, Brienne saw Melara standing in the centre of the kitchen with Jaime, Pod, Margaery, and the Hound huddled around her.

"My old housemate from Birmingham has just phoned and told me our cat Maggy had died!" she sobbed. "It's so sad! I named her after my psychic advisor and everything; she was one the most important people in my life."

Pod was patting Melara on the shoulder, saying, "there, there," in that sweet Podrick Payne way that only sounded sincere coming from him. Margaery was trying a different tack.

"It's only a cat, Melara, calm down, not an actual person."

Melara shot her a dirty look. "She was not just a cat! She's was a very important pet to me! She helped me through my darkest times. You understand, don't you Jaime?"

In a moment, Melara's big dark eyes were fixed on Brienne's husband, appearing almost full of starlight as they glistened with tears. At the sight of this cardboard cut-out damsel in distress, Jaime nodded sympathetically, before putting an arm around her. "Yeah, of course. It can be hard to lose a pet."

"I knew you would understand," Melara replied, fluttering her eyelashes at him. "You are just so... _considerate."_

And without saying another word, Melara curled herself round in such a way that her face was pressed into Jaime's chest and his arm was drawn around her. Jaime just completed the image by taking his other hand and patting her on the back. "It's alright Melara," he said gently, "stuff like this can be tough, I know."

Melara didn't seem to find the death of this (probably fictious in Brienne's opinion) cat that tragic though, as she seemed too busy dropping her hands from her face in order to wrap them around Jaime's waist and pull him close, inhaling deeply as she did so. Jaime did nothing but continue to pat her back.

"It's okay, Melara. It's okay."

Brienne _wanted _to do something about the situation that was emerging right in front of her eyes, but instead found herself frozen to the spot. All she could think of were Robb Arryn's words about Jaime _getting around, _and Aurane Waters assertion that Jaime and Melara seemed _close_. The part of Brienne that was a formidable fighter wanted to storm into the staff kitchen and shove Melara out of the window, but she knew she couldn't, not when this battle had to be fought in Girl World. Furthermore, Brienne knew she had been so bad to Jaime recently that she didn't want to push him away and give him further cause to fall into Melara's willing arms.

_But he's already been in her arms, _came a little voice. _You just saw it with your own eyes..._

As Brienne agonised over what this all meant, Margaery leapt into action. Reaching across to Melara, she tugged her away from Jaime and pulled her into a tight embrace, so close that Melara would have found it impossible to escape from.

"There, there, Melara," said Margaery, with no sympathy in her voice at all. "Isn't it sad that Meg is dead..."

"Maggy..."

"Isn't it sad that Maggy is dead?"

Melara tried to pull away. "Yes, it is, but Jaime..."

Margaery just held on tighter. "No, no, no. You don't need any sympathy from a mister when you've got one of your sistas here. I'll look after you."

"But..."

"No buts!" insisted Margaery. "Jaime, why don't you go and find Brienne. Maybe she needs some help."

"What would she need help with?" Jaime replied quizzically.

Margaery rolled her eyes over Melara's shoulder, clearly exasperated. "I don't know, maybe she needs someone to clip her toenails, but will you just go find her?"

Brienne was suddenly overwhelmed with the urgent need to stay as far away from Jaime as possible as, if they came face to face, she was sure she would shout at him and he didn't deserve that. Therefore, Brienne made the decision to charge down the corridor and into the storeroom, telling herself that she was merely looking for colourful string and not hiding from her husband.

_There's nothing to be jealous of, it was just a hug._

_There's nothing to be jealous of, it was just an embrace._

_There's nothing to be jealous of..._

_There's nothing to be..._

_..._

_Or is there?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhhh. Sorry... they still haven't talked! I hope you enjoyed this chapter; I'm having real fun building my own mystery, so I am excited to see where you think I am going with it in a lovely comment :)
> 
> Next chapter... Jaime and Brienne go to Margaery and Robb's party, as the players show their hands...


	11. Girl World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne attend Robb and Margaery's party...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I've been looking forward to publishing this chapter for AGES, so I hope you enjoy it. As ever, I love comments and kudos! They make me a better writer :D

Brienne spent the rest of the week refusing to believe that Jaime would ever cheat on her with Melara.

_He's my Jaime. My lovely, devoted Jaime._

Every morning she made him breakfast, kissed him, joked with him, did everything he wanted and needed from her. At night she would hold him down, fucking him as she mumbled _I love you, I love you, I love you, _running her fingers through his hair_. _On Wednesday night, she even put away the Baby Making Spreadsheet in order to tie him up and blindfold him the way he loved, and then sucked him off until he was screaming. Afterwards, as he fell asleep in her arms, she tried to keep the worst of her thoughts at bay.

_I've been a bad wife. If I'm a good wife, he won't stray._

At work, she did all she could to avoid Melara and Jaime. If she saw them talking in the staff kitchen, she would go and hide in her office. If she heard that simpering laugh and Jaime's chuckle in response, Brienne would put her earphones in and listen to some music. It wasn't that she didn't trust Jaime, it was just that if she saw him with Melara she knew she would misconstrue everything, twist it until it was something dark that it clearly wasn't.

_I love him and he loves me, _she told herself, _I know it... I know it..._

Jaime even said it himself when they were cuddled up together in bed on Thursday night as he was stroking her hair out of her face.

"Wench?"

"Yes, Jaime?"

"You know I love you, don't you?"

"Of course I do," she replied, dropping her eyes so she did not have to look at him square in the face. "Just like I love you."

"Good," he smiled, leaning in to kiss her. When they broke apart, he was wearing a concerned expression. "You would tell me if there was something the matter, wouldn't you?"

"Why do you say that?"

He looked a little sad. "Because we were going to talk... and we still haven't talked. And I want to know what's going through my wench's head, that's all."

That simple statement, delivered in such an earnest tone, sent a bolt of ice through Brienne. Knowing he would think her so irrational and stupid if she voiced her fears about him and Melara, here in their bed, she said, "I've always been an internal person. I just sometimes find it difficult to... communicate."

_About the fact I can't give you children. About the way Melara is with you scares me. That when you compare me, barren, to her, you'll think me half a woman._

"I know," he replied gently, putting his fingers underneath her chin so he could tilt her face up to look at him. "Have you thought anymore about my offer of couples therapy?"

Brienne nodded. "I emailed Doctor Aemon. He said since I left him, he has taken on a number of new clients so he has no time for me, but that he will work to find someone who can help us... someone who can do couples therapy and help us _talk._"

Jaime smiled, brilliant and beautiful. "That's great. That's all I want."

"What?"

"To talk to you."

It seemed that Brienne was not the only one who found it difficult to talk. On Friday morning she went to yet another one of Reverend Meribald's SARC meetings, only this time it was marked with a sombre mood. Reverend Meribald gave a moving speech about Senelle, while the rest of the committee sat in silence. Brienne caught Aurane Waters' eye and in response he gave her a pretty smile. In contrast, Taena Merryweather's mouth was a thin white line, her expression unreadable. Brienne could barely keep her eyes off her; yet, by trying to read something in her expression, she came up with naught.

Jaime chose his maroon suit for Margaery's party that evening. As he was checking himself out in mirror, Brienne came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his neck. "You look pretty."

Jaime laughed, deep and manly. "Why do you always have to use pretty? Why can't you say ruggedly handsome?"

"Because you _are _pretty," smiled Brienne, "and ruggedly handsome. You can be both."

Turning around in the circle of her arms, Jaime looked at the white top and long turquoise skirt she had picked. "You look pretty too," he purred, leaning forward, "though you can wear heels if you want. This ensemble might look nice with that pair of stilettos you bought when you went shopping with Shae and Sansa a couple of months ago."

"I'll tower over you though," she said, blushing.

Jaime laughed. "You know I don't care about that... actually, I quite like it."

Brienne pulled him close and kissed him. "Alright. I'll wear them for you."

"Thanks wench," he purred. "You'll look so sexy... I might struggle to keep my hands off you."

Brienne blushed, "when can you ever resist me?"

_When you have your hands all over Melara._

"Never."

After they kissed for a little bit, Brienne sat down on the bed and watched Jaime do his hair. In all the time she had known him, she had come to learn it was a very technical process that way outstripped her own haircare skills. It involved wax and powder and lots of sprucing. Although Jaime always joked that it was a sign of his unending vanity, Brienne liked watching him do it because it was an example of the close intimacy they shared that only she got to enjoy. Melara never saw this.

But perhaps, once, Taena did.

"Jaime."

"Yeah?"

Brienne took a deep breath, steadying herself before telling him. "I found out something interesting about Senelle."

Jaime continued doing his hair. "You have? What?"

"Her best friend told the Robbs that before she died, she had been having an affair with Orton Merryweather."

Jaime turned to look at her, his mouth open. "What? Senelle and _Orton._"

"Yeah. Gossip, right?"

"Right," snorted Jaime in agreement. "I bet Taena wouldn't be very happy about that if she knew."

Brienne saw no need to beat around the bush, but even so kept her tone gentle. "She did know, Jaime."

His jovial expression dimmed somewhat. "How do you know that for sure?"

"When I went to Lannis House after the pufferfish was stolen... I heard Taena and Orton arguing. Taena didn't name Senelle by name, but she was shouting at Orton, saying she knew he was having an affair and was threatening to go to the papers about it."

Jaime sighed. "Well... that's Taena for you. She always has to have the last word."

"Is that all she has to have, Jaime?" Brienne asked quietly, trying to approach this sensitively. "If my gut feeling is right and Senelle's death was unnatural... Taena would have a pretty good motive. She'd be suspect number one."

That finally made Jaime stop playing with his hair. "You think she did it? Killed Senelle?"

"I don't know," said Brienne honestly. "I don't really know her or what she is capable of. On the other hand, you were with her for years. You would know her better than anyone, so before I start investigating, I wanted your opinion. Do you think she could do something like this?"

A dark expression flitted across Jaime's features as she came to sit beside Brienne on the bed. Whenever he was forced to relive his time with Taena, Jaime always seemed to have a heavy weight pushing down on his back, too big for him to carry. "Taena is many things - fun, impulsive, exciting - but she likes to leave those she loves dangling on a string, waiting and hoping and begging for a tiny little piece of her. She likes to feel loved, served, honoured, even from the husband she married for money. I doubt she would like another woman playing with her toys."

Brienne ran her hand along Jaime's back, wanting to comfort him, knowing that he had once been in her pocket. "Her husband is not a toy, though. He is a person in his own right."

Jaime let out a sad smile. "She doesn't see it that way. When I was with her, she was happy to pick me up, put me down, and dally with other men, yet I always had to be ever on my guard for other women that wanted me, so I could be ready to bat them away on Taena's order. I was expected to preserve myself entirely for her."

A breath caught in Brienne's throat in that statement. If he could notice when other women wanted him for Taena, why couldn't he do it for her? "And now?" she asked gently. "Do you notice when other women want you now?"

Jaime smiled and took her hand in his. "To be honest, I barely notice other women at all, let alone their intentions towards me, because all I see is you."

* * *

Brienne felt warm and happy as she walked to Robb's house hand in hand with Jaime, freer of her worries than she had been in weeks. As usual, Jaime was talking and talking and _talking _while Brienne was just content to listen, because that was the way it had always worked between them. They kept no secrets, they told each other no lies; they were happy to just be.

_I've been stupid and jealous and undeserving of him, _Brienne thought. _And when we find a suitable councillor, I will find a way to tell him how weak I am sometimes when it comes to him. I'll make things better._

When they arrived at Robb's house, Brienne could hear loud music coming from within. Jaime smirked. "A house party... what an ingenious way to show a pregnant Margaery you can be a responsible father."

"I suppose you could look at it that way," smiled Brienne, a laugh bubbling under her words.

They didn't even have to knock on the door before Robb was in front of them, grinning ear to ear. "Whey!" he slurred, "you bastards are finally here!"

"Are you alright?" asked Jaime, raising an eyebrow. "It's only early. Surely, you haven't drunk all the beer yourself, Robb?"

Robb laughed, loud and hearty, grabbing his sides as he did so. "Of course not! There's still plenty left for you! Come in! Come in! I'll get you both a drink."

The house was crowded with people as Jaime and Brienne went inside, to such an extent that Jaime put his mouth to her ear and said sceptically, "I thought you said this was going to be a _small gathering."_

"That's what Robb told me," replied Brienne in a whisper. "I'm not sure having a raucous house party is going to be the way to prove to Margaery that he is a responsible adult."

"Neither do I," said Jaime doubtfully, as he put an arm around his wife and led her into the lounge. Leaning against him, she gave him a quick kiss, enjoying the feel of his body against hers. At that simple act of intimacy, Brienne could have sworn he blushed.

It shattered in an instant.

"Lion cub!"

Brienne's heart fell the second they entered the room, as Melara Hetherspoon appeared on the horizon. Grinning broadly at Jaime, she had come as if dressed for a rave. Wearing a teeny tiny pair of denim shorts, a crop top, and a pair of sneakers, Brienne thought Melara's ensemble was meant to convey she was both accessible and available, most probably to Brienne's husband.

"Hey Melara," said Jaime easily, his arm still around Brienne. "Enjoying the party?"

Melara stepped forward, her eyes bright. "I wasn't, but now I am. Can I get you a drink?"

"I'd quite like a beer," replied Jaime, before turning to his wife. "Do you want anything?"

"No, I'm alright," she replied stiffly, trying not to look at the way Melara was eyeing up Jaime quite ravenously, lest she read too much into it. "I thought we would go and find Margaery first."

Melara furrowed her brow at Brienne, while putting one hand on Jaime's shoulder. "Are you such a cruel wife that you deny your husband a drink?"

"Yeah," agreed Jaime, smirking at Brienne. "_Cruel wench_, denying your husband a drink. I could die of thirst."

Brienne pulled herself away, not wanting to watch whatever game Melara was trying to play. "Go get a drink then," she said tersely. "I'm going to find Margaery."

Jaime's smile dimmed as Brienne turned around and stalked away from him, looking for her best friend. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, she eventually found her out in the kitchen chugging on an orange juice, looking as if she would rather be anywhere else. If Brienne herself seemed a little bit annoyed, Margaery was bloody fuming.

"Hey Marg, how are you...?"

"I'm not happy," said Margaery firmly. "Not only has he not invited any of my family, but Robb's been predrinking since he got home and now all his stupid school friends are blind drunk. Theon Greyjoy has already vommed in the garden, and to top it all off he's invited _her."_

"Her?"

Margaery crossed her eyes in annoyance. "Melara fucking Hetherspoon."

Brienne's stomach swooped at the mention of her rival's name. "I'd noticed she was here."

"So had I," growled Margaery. "As a feminist who supports other women, I'm not meant to say it, but I'm going to be a total hypocrite and say she's come dressed as Slutty McSlutface."

Brienne snorted. "All for Jaime's benefit, no doubt."

"Indeed," hissed Margaery, taking a swig of her orange juice. "I know she's a colleague, but the fact Robb hasn't seemed to notice that you and I hate her guts just suggests to me that he doesn't know me at all. He tells me he wants to be responsible, to be there for me and my baby, but then he goes and organises a party where he invites Melara and then gets blackout drunk with his friends before nine o'clock."

"And I told him actions speak louder the words the other day at work," said Brienne sadly. "I don't think he listened."

"Not at all," concurred Margaery, tutting. "That's why I laughed in his face when he proposed. He takes absolutely none of this seriously. Soon, we are going to be in charge of a little human, and he thinks all our problems can be solved with a ring and a party. It's just so... Oi! Theon! Stop pissing in that flowerpot! It's not a urinal!"

Without another word, Margaery slammed her drink down and marched over to the corner of the room to give Theon, who was merrily weeing on an ornamental pot plant, a right good bollocking. Brienne would have laughed, if she didn't feel so sorry for Margaery, who seemed to be dealing with an unruly boyfriend who was going about the entirely wrong way to win her over.

After Margaery stomped off, Brienne decided she did not want to go and witness whatever Jaime and Melara were doing in the other room, so instead set her mind on talking to people in the kitchen. To start with, she had a long chat with Roslin Frey about Casterly Footlight's audition process, which was currently ongoing. Although Brienne was only interested in seeing the show, Roslin was convinced she should take part.

"Have you ever thought about joining?" she asked.

Brienne shook her head. "No, I'm no actress."

"But you don't necessarily need to be an actress. This time we're doing _Cats; _it's more dancing and singing."

The thought of putting on a leotard and prancing up and down pretending to be a cat to the tunes of Andrew Lloyd Webber was even more horrifying than acting, so Brienne just blushed horribly red and encouraged Roslin to tell her about her own acting ambitions. After Roslin, Brienne had a brief conversation with Robb Arryn about the station's ongoing radio problem, before being waylaid by Aurane Waters, who gave her yet another dazzling smile.

"Out late again, I see, Inspector," he smiled.

Brienne tried to keep her face unreadable. "Well, I am at a party."

"Good, it's nice to see you out for a reason that is not because you've had a row with your husband." He took a sip of his drink, his unusual eyes remaining on her. "All is well at home, I trust?"

Brienne scowled. "I'm not sure how that is any of your business."

At her obvious displeasure, Aurane held his hand up in surrender. "Oh, I hope you don't think I meant to pry. Everytime I fell out with my ex-girlfriend back when I lived in Birmingham, I used to take a midnight stroll to clear my mind. There is nothing healthier, I think." Placing his free hand on her shoulder, Aurane said, "can I perhaps get you a drink to make peace?"

Suddenly realising she was parched, Brienne relented and let Aurane get her a beer from the cool box. Once she had it in her hand, the two of them spent some time discussing fundraising ideas for St Alysanne's church roof. In planning how best to treble the money Reverend Meribald had in the bank, Aurane gave Brienne a little break from worrying about what was going on in the next room with Jaime and Melara. She appreciated it.

He was partway through describing a complex tax avoidance scheme that could help St Alysanne's keep hold of some much needed cash, when Robb, Jaime, and Melara came into the kitchen, buzzed. From the expression on his face, Brienne could tell that Jaime had drunk too much, but it was the sight of Melara hanging off his arm that caused Brienne to pick up a bottle of vodka that was sitting on the side and take a swig.

"Woah," said Aurane gently, "steady going there."

"What?" spat Brienne, trying to keep her jealousies at bay. "I need a drink."

Armed with her bottle of vodka, Brienne made her way over to Robb, Jaime, and Melara, shoving the latter out of the way so she could get hold of Jaime's arm. When she did so, her husband gave her a big grin and a kiss on the cheek, before turning back to Robb who was soliloquising on a signed football shirt he had on his wall. Clearly sensing something was wrong, Aurane continued to hover behind her.

"This belonged to none other than Thierry Henry," Robb was saying drunkenly, pointing up at the bright red Arsenal shirt in a frame. "My brother Bran got it for me for my birthday, signed and everything. I bet it's worth a fortune."

"Mmm," mused Aurane, cutting into the conversation. As an antiques dealer, Brienne suspected that, on this issue, he would really know his onions. "I'm not sure. Thierry Henry is alive... it pays more when the celebrity is dead."

"Which celebrity is dead?" slurred Pod, charging into the conversation with his arm around Pia, his eyes bloodshot. Although he looked happy as Larry gazing up at Thierry Henry's shirt, it seemed to Brienne the only thing that was keeping Pod on his feet was Pia's supportive weight under him.

"Nobody," laughed Robb, "although you look half-dead yourself."

Pia shook her head. "He isn't dead. He's just had a little too much to drink, haven't you baby?"

"And who are you? His minder?" snorted Robb.

"No," replied Pia levelly. "I'm his girlfriend."

There was a very loud silence at that. Although everybody had noticed that Pod and Pia were going on secret little trips together and hanging around _a lot _more than they used to, that they were officially dating was a low level scandal as, while Pia was in her early thirties, Pod was barely twenty three.

"His _girlfriend,_" spluttered Jaime incredulously, his filter having well and truly gone on holiday now he was a bit merry. "You and Pod are girlfriend and boyfriend?"

Pia rolled her eyes. "What did you expect, Jaime? That I'd pine over you forever? No way. I'm moving on to greener pastures."

While Jaime looked a little insulted at Pia's happiness to move on from their forty-seven second long relationship several years ago, Melara's ears pricked up. "You used to fancy Jaime?"

Pia snorted, before turning to her ex. "Oh, we had a relationship for about ten minutes, didn't we? But then he met the love of his life and I had a fling on holiday in Barbados. It was only a bit of fun, in the end."

At the mention of the love of his life, Drunk Jaime swivelled round to look at Brienne, his pupils dilating in the centre of his green eyes. "Yeah... I met Brienne... my wench... love of my life... I love you wench."

Brienne felt herself blushing as Jaime wrapped his arms round her. Inhaling the intoxicating scent of Jaime, beer, and aftershave, she pulled him close, clanking her bottle of vodka against his back. Turning his face to her, he mumbled, "love you wench... so much."

"I know, Jaime, I know," Brienne replied, feeling both Jaime's warmth and the sharpness of Melara's gaze in equal measure. As her only form of defence against the latter, Brienne pulled Jaime in for a deep kiss, and he responded enthusiastically, sticking his tongue down her throat, mixing the aftertastes of beer and vodka quite nicely.

_Sometimes, I really love a house party, _Brienne thought.

Brienne was so enveloped in Jaime's kisses that she barely heard Aurane Waters make his excuse to leave, or Pod and Pia decide to get in on the action and join in with the snog-fest. Melara's plaintive attempts to grab Jaime's attention once more became as inconsequential as a sad, lonely fly buzzing round their heads, and it was only when Margaery re-entered into the conversation with a yell that Brienne broke the kiss. Even as Margaery was shouting, Jaime continued to gaze at Brienne with a beautiful pair of drunken heart-eyes.

"ROBB! Theon and his stupid friends are currently trying to dig to Australia in the garden. Can you please stop them before they destroy the entire place!" Margaery roared.

"Chill out," complained Robb, looking as if his sort of girlfriend had suggested something totally unreasonable, "this is my house."

Margaery's face was bright red with fury at that comment. "Yes, this is your house, _Robb, _but the way you've let your friends treat it with so little respect this evening just makes me think that you don't take _anything _seriously."

That outburst made Robb angry and he drew himself up to his full height in order to loom over Margaery. "Even if I did take something seriously, you wouldn't notice or care, because you already have such a clear idea that I am going to be a terrible father that you don't actually listen to what I do or say to try and change your mind."

It only occurred to Brienne that Robb had just casually announced to half their colleagues that Margaery was pregnant in the middle of a drunken row when Margaery looked so angry Brienne thought she was going to explode. "I can't _believe _you sometimes!" she shouted, spittle flying from her mouth in her rage, "you are just so selfish!"

"I'm selfish?" bellowed Robb, holding his arms wide. "You are the one making this pregnancy all about _you _and shutting me out! We're in this together, the two of us, and you treat every day as if it's a test to see whether I'm worthy to be this kid's father. Well, guess what? I _am _our baby's father, and you've got to let me in and let me help you!"

Brienne tried to reach out to Robb to get him to calm down, but Margaery had beaten her to it with her next move. "You know what? I don't have to listen to this. I'm going home!"

"Go on then," slurred Robb derisively. "Go home! You never listen to what I have to say anyway!"

Margaery gave Robb one last, disgusted look before she attempted to push past them all and leave. However, Brienne grabbed her arm, stopping her. "Do you want me to walk you home?"

"No, it's alright," Margaery replied, tears welling in her eyes. "I need some time to myself. You stay and enjoy yourself." Shaking herself out of Brienne's grip, Margaery slipped off into the crowd, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, Knowing her friend well, Brienne knew the best thing to do was to just let her recover herself and, in her absence, tell Robb what for.

"Robb," said Brienne warningly, "I think you've just put your cause back by about twenty five years. You told me that tonight was about showing Margaery you are serious about being this baby's father, and instead you've just organised a frat party."

To Brienne's annoyance, Drunk Robb decided the best way to react to that criticism was just to laugh. "Well, if we're at a frat party, let's make this a frat party! BEER PONG! BEER PONG!" Within thirty seconds, Robb had got most of the room drunkenly chanting BEER PONG at the top of their voices, so Brienne took another swig of her vodka in her irritation. "Come on!" Robb yelled, "let's go play it on the dining room table!"

Along with Drunk Robb, Drunk Jaime and Drunk Pod also seemed to think this was a good idea so, before long, they led most of the people from the kitchen into the dining room, where Robb started to set up the game with the pre-prepared cups, beer, and ping pong balls he had hiding under the table. While Pod tried valiantly (but rather unsuccessfully) to help him, Brienne lingered by the door, not really wanting to take part.

"Wench," mumbled Jaime, giving her a quick kiss. "Not joining in?"

"No," replied Brienne firmly. "Not when Robb has made such a mockery of Margaery."

Jaime shrugged. "He's an idiot, he'll regret it in the morning."

"But she won't_ forget_ it."

Jaime gave her a drunken grin that would have been adorable if she wasn't very irritated. "You are very wise, my wench."

That comment drew a little smile from Brienne. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Please do," he laughed, before crossing the room to help Pod and Robb set up.

It did not take much time to do so, considering that Robb had clearly been planning a Beer Pong tournament all evening. Consequently, before long the whole room was boisterously watching the game, cheerfully observing Jaime try to drunkenly win a game he had a natural disadvantage at. Not wanting to be in the middle of all the ridiculously loud and boisterous cheering, Brienne backed up, so she was standing at the edge of the assembled crowd, viewing from afar. She was hoping for a little bit of relative peace away from the drunks. However, she soon realised that wasn't going to happen when the last person she wanted to talk to scooted up next to her, smiling insincerely.

"I think Jaime is going to win," said Melara sweetly. "Don't you?"

Watching Jaime valiantly flail as he tried to get his ball in a cup made Brienne certain he was going to lose. "No, I don't think he's going to win. I have eyes."

"Oh?" replied Melara gently. "Don't you have any faith in him?"

"Of course I have faith in him," snapped Brienne, taking another swig of her vodka, "just not at beer pong."

"I have faith in him in everything," said Melara, like some long suffering saint. "Ever since I first saw him play football for our school when he was fifteen, I thought _that man can do anything._"

Brienne tried to smile, but she suddenly had a nasty taste in her mouth. "You clearly don't know him very well then. Jaime is a good man, but he is also a human with flaws and weaknesses like everyone else. He's messy, a little bit impulsive, and always forgets to feed the cat."

Melara raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at her. "You sound like you are disappointed in him."

"No," said Brienne defensively, looking over at her husband as Jaime bravely continued to lose at Beer Pong, "I love him for his flaws, just like he loves me for mine."

"And you have many flaws, I presume."

Brienne snapped her head round to look at Melara, suddenly angry. With the vodka that was coursing through her veins, Brienne totally forgot Margaery's entreaties to play Melara at her own game with subtle Girl World rules, and retorted, "I know what you are trying to do, and it won't work."

Melara's eyes were wide and deceptively innocent as she said, "what do you think I am trying to do?"

"Plant seeds of doubt between Jaime and me. I'm telling you now, it won't work."

"I'm trying to do no such thing," said Melara airly. "I just think, in certain respects, I know him better than you."

Brienne scoffed at that, "and in what respects are they?"

_Melara may get to see him smile, _Brienne reminded herself, _but only I get to see him in bed._

"I knew him when he was young," Melara smiled wistfully. "When we were children, I became best friends with his sister, and we spent nearly all out free time together, just the three of us. It's impossible not to know someone well after that."

"You knew him as a child, so what?" hissed Brienne, barely needing to keep her voice down over the cheering crowd around them. "I know him _now_."

Melara's smile grew bigger. "We _both_ know him now, but it's me that spends most of the day with him at work, and it's me who knew him as teenager, as a young man, before he lost his hand. And, at the end of the day, it was also me that was his first love."

As those words came tumbling out of Melara's smirking mouth, all the air was sucked out of Brienne's lungs. At such a simple word - _love _\- Brienne felt chilled to the bone.

"What?"

"Oh yes," purred Melara. "Didn't you know? I have a particular fond memory of seven minutes in heaven with Jaime in a cupboard at Casterly Rock. In his desperation to kiss me, he had me pinned to the wall, pulling at my hair. They say you never forget your first love."

In her horror at this newly resurfaced truth, Brienne turned away from the gloating bitch to look at Jaime, who was still losing at Beer Pong.

_Why didn't he tell me? _thought Brienne madly. _Is it because he thought I wouldn't understand? Or because he still feels that way about her? Does he still love Melara? Does he feel even more for her now he knows I am broken and damaged and can't give him children?_

"Why are you telling me this?" Brienne stammered, trying to keep the tears at bay.

Revelling in the distress she was causing, Melara gave her a predatorial smile. "I like to believe I am honest, so I think you deserve to know what game we are playing here. I am going to have your husband, whether you like it or not. At the end of the day we can continue to play these silly contests, but the truth of the matter is, I want him and he wants me, and there's nothing you can do to stop that."

Brienne's mind suddenly became filled with the endless expanse of hours that Jaime and Melara had spent alone on patrol together. Had they just talked? Flirted? Reminisced? Rekindled their love? Had they kissed? Was that why Jaime had mentioned none of his past with Melara to Brienne, because he spent every day reliving it?

Scrabbling around for something that would allow her to be on top once more, Brienne growled, "I could stop you. I'm your _boss. _I could split you up from Jaime on patrol, or even fire you any time I like."

Melara let out one of her delicate, simpering laugh. "And what would you be saying to Jaime if you split us up? That you know the hold I have on him, that's what. And what would our colleagues make of you suddenly firing me? What would _Jaime _make of it? You would just seem like the jealous, petty bitch you are, standing in the way of what is real. And I promise you, if you tried to fire me, I would not stand for it. There would be an employment tribunal."

"_Margaery _would see what was going on," replied Brienne, grabbing hold of the one ally she had. "She already thinks you are a right little homewrecker."

"And what would she do about it?" smirked Melara, digging her heels in. "As we saw from that scene she made in the kitchen, dear Margaery is soon going to be so focussed on Robb and the baby that she won't have any time for her best friend whinging about her problems."

Brienne took a few gulps of air, trying to recover herself. Although she wanted to say something that would put Melara in her place, in the end, all Brienne was able to do was spit, "you utter cow!"

As they were reduced to dealing in petty insults, Melara just smirked. "Call me names all you want Brienne, but it won't stop me winning, because Jaime will take one look at you and one look at me, and it will be an easy decision for him to make. Why would he want to be with _you_," she said, scanning up and down Brienne's body with her cruel eyes, "when he could be with _me._"

_Jaime thinks I'm beautiful, _Brienne told herself wildly, _Jaime thinks I'm sexy, he told me himself. Jaime loves me... he loves me..._

Even as she tried to remind herself of these truths, Melara kept talking. "And, at the end of the day, there's a major difference between you and I."

Trying to grasp on to something that would keep her afloat, Brienne snarled, "what's that then? I've got the ring."

Melara rolled her eyes at the evocation of a piece of jewellery. "No, that's not the difference because that won't be the case for long. Anyway, why would he keep it a secret that I was his first love unless those feelings were still there?"

Brienne tried to interrupt. "He... I..."

Melara was having none of Brienne's babbling and directed the conversation back to the issue at hand. "For your information, the difference between you and me, Brienne, is that you always insist on playing by the rules... whereas I don't mind cheating." Letting out a little laugh at that statement, Melara pressed a single finger to her chin, as if she were thinking. "Or is it dearest _Jaime _that's cheating? I think you know the truth, deep down."

"You... you... you..." stammered Brienne, trying to say something - anything - that would push against the images Melara was forcing into her head. Jaime and Melara kissing. Jaime and Melara kissing in the police car. Jaime and Melara together, naked, mocking her. In the face of Brienne's weakness, Melara just smiled.

"_Ciao bella_," she sang, her voice light and lilting. "Oh wait... no... that's wrong. Just _Ciao_."

Without another word, Melara turned her back on Brienne and pushed through the crowd, striding towards Jaime as if she was entitled to him. When she reached his side, Jaime gave her a friendly smile and obviously said something funny, as Melara threw her head backwards in an over-the-top giggle.

It was too much. Realising both that her husband had spent weeks keeping a very important secret from her, and that it was ill-advised to drink neat vodka, Brienne ran out of the room as fast as she could. Skidding into the bathroom, she reached the toilet just in time before she threw her guts up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? I love writing a good bitch!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that and, if you did (or didn't), please consider leaving a comment (even if it is just Melara hate)!
> 
> And, if you want a bit of background on the whole Jaime/Melara relationship and you haven't already, please read Chapter 12 of my "Many Flavours of Ice Cream" story, entitled "First Kiss".
> 
> Next chapter... Brienne reels from the revelations discovered at Robb and Margaery's party...


	12. Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne deals with the revelations unveiled at Jaime and Margaery's party...

On Saturday, Brienne had never been more thankful for a hangover in all her life. It gave her an excuse to curl up in bed next to Jaime, doing nothing but sleeping and trying not to think of what Melara had said to her.

_Why didn't he tell me about their past? _Brienne thought, watching Jaime's chest rise and fall as he slept. _Is he hiding something from me? Or is he just scared of what I might say?_

The headache and the nausea meant that for most of Saturday, Brienne did not have to truly confront what had happened at the party. She did not have the same luxury on Sunday, however, as her fears shook her awake early, meaning she was confronted all at once by every mocking and hateful thing that Melara had spat at her at the party.

_We _both_ know him now, but it's me that spends most of the day with him at work, and it's me who knew him as teenager, as a young man, before he lost his hand. And, at the end of the day, it was also me that was his first love..._

_I have a particular fond memory of seven minutes in heaven with Jaime in a cupboard at Casterly Rock. In his desperation to kiss me, he had me pinned to the wall, pulling at my hair. They say you never forget your first love..._

_I want him and he wants me, and there's nothing you can do to stop that..._

_Why would he want to be with _ you_, when he could be with _me?

It was a step too far, even for someone as despicable for Melara.

When Jaime woke up an hour later, he rolled over to give her a stale morning kiss. "Hello, wench," he yawned, stretching as he did so. In these moments, when they were curled up next to each other in bed, he shone with such starlight that Brienne was surprised she ever slept.

"Good morning Jaime," she replied, staying warm in their bed as he slipped from underneath the covers. He was so beautiful in the early morning glow, so wonderful, that as she watched him, Brienne remembered how, in the beginning, she had found it near impossible to accept that he wanted her. Yet, here he was, almost a year after their wedding, giving her good morning kisses. What had he said just before they left to go to Robb and Margaery's party?

_To be honest, I barely notice other women at all, let alone their intentions towards me, because all I see is you..._

Brienne did not think he had given her any reason to doubt that, in spite of what Melara had said.

"You look pensive," said Jaime as he shimmied into his dressing gown. "Good thoughts, I hope?"

"Always," she replied, trying to sound breezy. "What are you up to today?"

"Tyrion needs help taking some old furniture up to his loft, so I thought I would give him a hand." Jaime sniggered to himself, before adding, "only one hand, of course."

"Of course," Brienne smiled, watching him carefully. "How honourable of you."

"You know me," he grinned, before winking at her. "I'm just going to have a shower and then I'll probably head out. Do we need anything from the shop?"

"I don't think so," said Brienne, imagining the contents of their fridge. "I am probably going to pop out to town anyway, so I can grab the essentials."

"Okay wench," he said, leaning in to give her a quick kiss. "I will disturb your beauty sleep no longer."

She listened to him showering in the bathroom, hearing the familiar pad of his feet across the floor. Brienne loved him so much that she could pre-empt his every moving; the gasp as he tested the temperature of the water, the sound of him fussing round the cupboards looking for his favourite shampoo, the tuneless hum as he got in the shower. Try as she might, no matter how much her natural propensity for anxiety and insecurity attempted to fix Melara's cheating Jaime on _her _Jaime, Brienne found it impossible. Brienne's Jaime had never done anything to make her doubt him; he always wanted to talk, he always supported her, and in return she treated him badly.

_So why have I been so willing to believe the voice in my head? Why did I listen to Melara's lies?_

* * *

Once Jaime had headed off to Tyrion's, Brienne had a shower and got changed into a comfortable tracksuit so she could go for a walk. Given how stressful the last few weeks had been, she wanted nothing but fresh air and the green rolling hills of the countryside. Making her way out of the spiralling streets of the village, Brienne walked up Visenya's Hill, wanting to see Casterly in all its glory.

When she reached the top of the climb, Brienne was rewarded. From this vantage point, she could see the whole of the village, from the spire of St Alysanne's to the local school. If she really squinted, she could see the High Street, in which she and Jaime had once defeated a cult in a shootout. She saw the supermarket,_Lannisters, _where Jaime had fought the Mountain on her behalf. And last but not least, Brienne could see the remains of the Model Village, where Jaime had decisively turned against his father and his sister to protect her.

_Because he loves me..._

"What am I doing?" she asked herself, watching as the village went about its business below her.

_Am I really going to believe Melara over the man who has never given me cause to doubt him?_

_Am I really going to listen to the voice in my head, that has brought me nothing but pain, over Jaime?_

_Jaime, my love..._

By the time she returned home, Brienne had made her decision. After texting Jaime to ask when he would be back, she went up to their room and made a list of everything she needed to say to him. Without that planning, that preparation that was so intrinsic to who she was, Brienne feared that once she was face to face with him, she would crumble and bring her walls up once more.

_I can't do that anymore, _she thought. _I must talk to him, for Jaime's sake as well as my own._

When he messaged to say he would be ten minutes, Brienne turned the kettle on, put some biscuits on a plate, and made sure a box of tissues was easily accessible in the lounge. Therefore, when Jaime walked into the house, babbling about how tiny Tyrion's loft was, he was silenced the instant he found Brienne waiting for him expectantly, her blue eyes fixed intently on him.

"I made you tea. Why don't you come and drink it with me?" she said meekly, pointing to the cup she had left on the coffee table for him. Gazing at her quizzically, Jaime sat down next to her and took a sip of tea. He clearly sensed something was up.

"What's going on?" he asked, putting tea back down on the table.

Brienne steeled herself. "I promised you that we would talk, and I've been... slow at fulfilling that promise."

Jaime's green eyes suddenly brightened, as if she had just suggested something very exciting. "And we are going to talk now?"

Brienne took a gulp of tea, trying to moisten her dry throat. "Yes... if... if... you want to."

His smile broadened, affectionate and sweet. "Of course I want to talk. That's all I want."

"Good," she replied, putting the cup back down as Jaime gazed at her with his green eyes that held everything she loved most in the world.

_Damn, _she thought. _Now comes the hard part._

When Brienne did not immediately speak, Jaime gave her a little nudge. "So," he murmured, "what's been going on, Brienne?"

Brienne took a deep breath, steadying herself.

_I trust him more than I trust my fears, _she thought.

"We need to talk about Melara," she said firmly.

_Finally, at last._

At Brienne's statement, Jaime's expression was one of blank surprise. "Melara? What about her?"

Even though Brienne had wanted to approach this as a calm, responsible adult, at Jaime's evident confusion she found herself saying, "about the fact she is a total bitch, and from the moment she arrived in Casterly, she's been out to get you."

Jaime's look went from surprise to shock. "Out to get me? What... like kill me?"

Brienne let out a huff of amusement. "No, I don't think she's trying to kill you, Jaime. I think she's trying to sleep with you. Ever since she joined the Constabulary, she's been all over you; hanging off you, touching you, flirting with you, calling you _lion cub. _And she's taken particular joy in rubbing it in my face."

Jaime looked as if he had never heard of anything more incredible in all his life. "Melara? Are you sure? But we're _friends. _We've known each other since we were kids... we're just colleagues."

"That's not how she sees it," replied Brienne gently, trying not to let the images that had tortured her since she spoke to Melara threaten her once more. "As she relished telling me at Robb and Margaery's party, she was your first love. Apparently, she has particularly fond memories of seven minutes in heaven with you in a cupboard at Casterly Rock."

At that statement, Jaime blushed furiously and began to stammer. "She... she... she told you about that?"

Unbidden, tears came to Brienne's eyes. "She did. That and the fact you never forget your first love. I presume she was meaning to tell me that you have never forgotten her."

As the tears began to spill down Brienne's cheeks, Jaime reached out and took her hand, squeezing her fingers. "Melara was not my first love. I... I... was a late bloomer. I've only ever loved two women in my whole life; Taena and _you. _That kiss..."

"Why didn't you mention it to me?" asked Brienne, not wanting to sound accusatory, just that she was determined to understand. "Were you afraid of how I would react once I found out Melara was your ex? Because... if that's the case it says a lot more about me than about you."

"It wasn't that," sighed Jaime, drawing his right arm into his chest, almost protectively. "I didn't mention it because it happened over twenty years ago in a cupboard after my sister dared me. It meant next to nothing to me at the time, and absolutely nothing to me now. And Melara isn't my _ex. _It was just one drunken, stupid kiss."

Brienne began to feel a wave of relief wash over her; beautiful, clear, and fresh.

_I should have spoken to him sooner, _she thought. _Why do I always let myself get like this?_

Feeling more relieved than she had in weeks, Brienne smiled. "I love you, Jaime."

"I love you too," he responded, shuffling closer, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Is this what all this weirdness has been about? Melara?"

Wiping her tears away with her free hand, Brienne made herself look at him. "Ever since we got the news about our chances of having a baby, I've been struggling to understand why... why you want to stay with me when you can go and have the best of everything with someone else."

"Brienne," replied Jaime, his voice cracking. "How many times do I have to tell you? I love _you. _I want _you. _I don't want a child with anyone else."

"I _know,_" said Brienne, grasping hold of his arm, rubbing him in a way she hoped was comforting. "And the fact I struggle believe that sometimes is my problem, not yours. I'm being irrational and insecure as _usual_..."

Jaime shook his head, leaning closer so she could feel the warm press of his arm against hers. "Not as _usual. _Since we've been together, you've been doing so much better at being on top of all this stuff. You used to not be able to bear for me to say you are beautiful. Now you have no problem in accepting it, because we both know it's the truth."

Brienne couldn't help but smile at his sweetness. "Stop being so supportive," she joked.  
  
"No. I won't," replied Jaime passionately, his expression intense. "I am your husband. It's my job to be supportive."

"And it's my job to be supportive of _you_," replied Brienne, suddenly feeling immensely guilty, "and I haven't been recently because I've let my own doubts and insecurities come before anything else. I've not been fair to you, and I pushed you away because I allowed my own fears to cloud all the love and respect you've always shown me. You told me how Taena used to treat you and, to be honest, I've been little better than her." At the evocation of his relationship with Taena, Jaime suddenly looked sad, so Brienne lifted her hands and cupped his face, causing him to lean into her touch. "I want to be a better wife to you. I don't want to find it so difficult to talk to you... and I definitely I don't want to feel overwhelmed and distant from you. And I don't want you to feel unloved and unwanted. You are the best thing in my life, and I don't want to ruin what we have."

"Then we'll go to couples’ therapy, like we decided to do," replied Jaime ardently, lifting his own hand and touching hers. "The last few weeks have been hard for me too, because I've felt like you don't want to talk to me, like you don't trust me..."

That statement almost broke Brienne's heart in two. "I _do _trust you."

"Then let's make sure we sure we both know that, both _feel _it," he replied. "We need to make sure we are able to talk about our problems, because bottling it all up does neither of us any good."

Brienne ran her thumb along his cheekbone, which made Jaime shiver. "I'll phone Doctor Aemon as soon as I can. Although he doesn't do couples therapy himself, I'm sure he will be able to find someone who can help us."

"Good," he replied gently, before opening his arms as an offer. In an instant, Brienne found herself wrapped in them and held onto him tightly, not wanting to let go. This close to him, enveloped in him, the strength of Jaime's devotion to her was suddenly intensely overwhelming, and Brienne found herself crying once more.

"I'm sorry, Jaime," she sobbed. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to talk to you about this. "

He squeezed her tightly. "Maybe I should have been less oblivious to how you were feeling. I should have realised that it's tough for you at the moment, considering the news we've had about your fertility and that perhaps you wouldn't be able to manage things as you normally do."

Brienne looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "You gave me plenty of opportunities to tell you and... I didn't take them."

Pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, he then asked her why.

"At first," began Brienne, trying to piece her own behaviour together, "I didn't want to talk to you because Doctor Aemon told me the most important thing to do with my anxieties is recognise that I am being irrational, and to only deal with the _rational _thoughts. When Melara first arrived, I thought I was just imagining things, that I was just letting my own worries about the whole infertility thing transform into a type of jealousy that I would at least have a hope of dealing with. It's just... after Friday... I now know I'm not imagining things..."

"Maybe Melara was just talking about the past," suggested Jaime, "and you both got your wires crossed."

Brienne fixed him with a serious look. "I don't think so. She told me that she was going to have you and there was nothing I could do to stop her. She said that you still had feelings for her, and that you would only have to take one look at her and one at me and your choice would be easy. There's no mistake about it; Melara wants you, Jaime."

Bafflement coloured his features as he said, "Why would she say all this? I've never given her any hint of having feelings for her at all. I thought she was just being friendly."

"No she was not _just being friendly_," Brienne laughed through her tears, heart warmed by his obliviousness. "I believe it was Margaery who first called her a homewrecking bitch, but I'm happy to stand by that statement."

Jaime half rolled his eyes. "_Margaery _is involved in all this?"

Brienne bit her lip. "She noticed what was going on and told me the best thing to do was deal with this amongst ourselves in _Girl World, _because all the men at the station were oblivious to Melara's games_."_

Jaime looked at her as if she was crazy. "Girl World?"

"I believe it's a concept taken from _Mean Girls, _but now I see that managing my life with tips taken from a mid-2000s chick flick is really not the way forward."

Jaime let out a huff of laughter. "Probably not."

"Probably not," Brienne agreed, smiling. "It would have been so much better if I had been able to talk to you earlier."

"It would have," nodded Jaime sadly, "so from now on, will you please promise me you will? I don't think I can be in a marriage where my wife shuts me out. As you said... that's what Taena used to do."

Horribly ashamed of herself that Jaime had put her in the same bracket as Taena, Brienne turned her face towards his and kissed him, full of all the tenderness she felt for him. When they broke apart, she whispered, "I promise. Of course I promise."

Brienne tried to make him more promises, but she found Jaime silenced her with kisses. At first, they were pressed onto her lips - hot, devoted, and fervent - but then he moved to her jaw and along the freckled expanse of her neck. Brienne let out a little moan as Jaime began to suck at her, determined to mark his love onto her skin, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. In return, she stroked his hair, pressing her affection for him into his skin with gentle fingers. When Jaime looked up at her, he could see his eyes were filled with desire and felt it reflected in herself. It was amazing what talking intimately could do for the libido.

"Brienne," he whispered, his voice as ardent as his kisses. "Take me to bed."

She just smiled.

"Anything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hoped you enjoyed that. They've been through a lot of angst in this story, but this is hopefully the first step on the path to something better. I hope it didn't disappoint. Please let me know in comments or kudos what you think!
> 
> Next chapter... Jaime and Brienne decide how to deal with the Melara Problem...


	13. Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne work out how to deal with Melara, while new details come to light in the case...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys... there's actually some fluff in this one. What is going on? If you enjoy it (or if you don't) please leave a comment! I love to hear from you.

On Monday morning, Brienne woke up, sweaty and sticky, still entwined with Jaime. She was not sure what had roused her - perhaps the weak early morning light, perhaps birdsong - but she liked to think it was the quiet little snores that Jaime was making against her skin, his face still pressed into her chest.

_I am the luckiest woman in the world, _she thought, as she lifted her hand and tucked a loose strand of golden hair behind her husband's ear. As her fingers danced across his cheek, Jaime leaned into her warmth and a moment later he was opening his eyes, blinking, and unconsciously nuzzling between her breasts. At his familiar touch, Brienne shivered. Her subtle movement made Jaime focus, and he turned to look up at her, eyes shining. Smirking at the reaction he had caused in her, Jaime began to slowly journey up her body, planting kisses on a particularly noticeable constellations of freckles, before languorously tonguing each of her nipples, making her laugh when he almost put the entirety of her right breast in his mouth with his enthusiasm. 

As Brienne giggled, Jaime looked at her with starlight in his eyes. "Good morning, wench."

Cupping his face with her hands, Brienne pulled Jaime up for a kiss, slowly teasing his mouth open and taking the time to caress his tongue with her own. He let out a little moan of appreciation and brought his stump up to touch her face. With flicker of insecurity, he suddenly realised what he was doing and went to withdraw, but Brienne simply moved her hand from his face to his stump, holding him close. When they stopped kissing, he was smiling at her.

"Last night was fun," he purred. "I don't necessarily need sleep if you want to do that every night."

"Me neither," replied Brienne, running one finger down the bridge of Jaime's nose. "I missed it feeling this close."

"Me too," he smiled, before kissing her again.

Brienne wasn't sure how long they continued to kiss for until the alarm went off, telling them they really needed to get up for work. Although she was disappointed at the interruption, she knew they had a duty so, giving him a playful shove, Brienne rolled out from underneath him, the absence of his warm skin making her feel instantly cold.

"Come on, we've got to get ready," Brienne chided affectionately, crossing the room so she could get his uniform out of the wardrobe to chuck it at him. "Do you want to shower first or shall I?"

At her question, Jaime raised an eyebrow at her almost coquettishly. "I thought we could have a shower together."

So they did. Afterwards, they got dressed together too, and Brienne helped Jaime with a particularly fiddly button on his shirt. Then they ate breakfast together - watching Jaime attempt to make pancakes with one hand was always a laugh - and then walked to work together, hand in hand.

_Together, _thought Brienne. _How it should be._

Later, when Margaery found them in the staff kitchen having a cheeky snog, she rolled her eyes. "Doesn't take an idiot to guess what you two have been doing all weekend," she groused.

Jaime pulled away from Brienne to fix Margaery with a teasing look. "Hey, if I want to have sex with my wife all night long, then I'm going to have sex with my wife all night long, capische? It's in the marriage vows."

Margaery laughed as she went to make herself a cup of tea. "Is it? I don't remember you saying anything about shagging during your wedding... but then maybe I was distracted by the loony with the shotgun."

"What do you think _with my body, I thee worship _means?"

Brienne tutted. "We never got around to that bit of the vows, if I recall."

Jaime furrowed his brow. "Why not?"

"Because of the aforementioned loony with the shotgun," teased Brienne.

Laughing, Jaime moved towards her for another kiss but then he seemed to remember something, and abruptly stopped so he could turn and face Margaery, who was busy filling up the kettle with water. "Hey," he said, some of his jocularity gone, "I've got a bone to pick with you."

"Hasn't everybody?" replied Margaery a little bitterly. Sensing something was wrong, Brienne shuffled out of Jaime's embrace in order to look at her best friend more closely. For the first time since she entered the room, Brienne could see Margaery had bags under her eyes.

"Is everything alright?" asked Brienne, helping Margaery by getting mugs and teabags out the cupboard.

"Yeah," sighed Margaery resignedly. "It's just I've spent most of the weekend on the phone with Robb as he tried to profusely apologise about the party. He claims it was all Theon's fault. Apparently, Greyjoy turned up with a big group of Robb's old schoolfriends who weren't originally invited and they magically made Robb get wasted and behave like a dick. And, like, I don't care if one of Theon's moron friends ran off with his beloved Thierry Henry shirt; this party was meant to be about proving to me he cared, and it just showed me he _doesn't care." _Brienne couldn't really argue with that interpretation of Friday night's events, so she just gave Margaery a consoling part on the back. Letting out another little sigh, Margaery turned to look at Jaime. "So, what bone have you got to pick with me? I could do with anything to take my mind off bloody Robb Stark."

Jaime looked at her incredulously. "I'll look a right dick for saying it now."

"Just say it. God, I need a good fight."

Shaking his head affectionately at her, Jaime said, "I _have _got a bone to pick with you, because you are perhaps the dispenser of the worst advice I've ever heard."

At that statement, Margaery looked shock. "What are you talking about? My advice is always fucking epic! What bad advice have I ever given out?"

Jaime put his finger on his chin, pretending he was seriously having to think. "Oooh, I don't know, but maybe telling my wife to play mind games in Girl World with Melara Hetherspoon instead of just coming to me and talking about the issue?"

Margaery's mouth dropped open in shock, before she flicked her eyes across from Jaime to Brienne. "You told him about the homewrecking bitch problem?"

"I told him about the homewrecking bitch problem," repeated Brienne, before walking over to her husband to sling an arm around his shoulders. "And, par for the course, up until I pointed it out to him, Jaime just thought she was being friendly."

"Hey," said Jaime, pretending to be offended. "I'm a nice guy. Lots of people are friendly to me. How am I supposed to spot the difference?"

Margaery rolled her eyes melodramatically. "How about by being observant? Have you ever seen me, or Robb, or the Hound brush lint off your shoulder? Or tell you that you are _so considerate _after our obviously fake cat died? Or call you _lion cub_?"

"Okay, okay," said Jaime, clearly not wanting Margaery to point out any more obvious signs he had missed, "I may have not been as observant as I could have been, but the important thing is that I know about it now."

"Good," smiled Margaery as she began to pour the three of them cups of tea. "And now you know, what are you two going to do about it?"

Brienne shot Jaime a quick look, getting his assent to tell Margaery the plan that they had discussed over breakfast, before turning back to her best friend. "Well... actually... we kinda need your help."

A conspiratorial grin suddenly stretched across Margaery's face. "Yes! You know I love the drama! What do you need me to do?"

Holding her hands up in what she hoped was a steadying way, Brienne said, "not cause a ruckus for one thing. We all still have to work with Melara, after all."

Margaery looked a little disappointed by that. "Oh. I wanted to set fire to something."

"No pyromania from you, I'm afraid," laughed Brienne. "What I need you to do is decidedly less dramatic. I've just decided that I'm going to rearrange the patrol schedules."

"Again?" whined Margaery, agog.

"Again," confirmed Brienne. "And this time, instead of putting you with Jaime and Melara to keep an eye on the situation, I'm going to move Jaime out of the equation and put him with Pod and the Hound, while you and Melara will form a pair."

Margaery looked horrified at that suggestion. "You mean you are going to force me to experience the utter torture of spending all day with _Melara fucking Hetherspoon?"_

If she was truthful to herself, Brienne felt very guilty about it, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made for more nobles causes. "I'm sorry, but you are the only one I can trust with seeing right through her bullshit. The Hound and Pod are just as hypnotised as Jaime was."

"I wasn't _hypnotised,_" interjected Jaime sullenly. Brienne pecked him on the cheek to ameliorate him.

"Yes you were, but I forgive you."

Picking up her tea and shaking her head, Margaery said resignedly, "okay, I'll do it, because I love you two and think you are the cutest together. However, is that all you've got in your arsenal? Melara's really turned up the temperature since she's been here; you've got to fight fire with fire."

Brienne let Jaime answer that question. "The problem is, as Brienne said, we've still got to work with her, so I can't be too rude or inflammatory. We've decided that, if she tries anything ridiculously obvious, I will give her the polite, but firm, brush off. If she then for some crazy reason decides to escalate things, I will use my words to tell her that I'm not interested. I don't want a war in the middle of the staff room over the fact I'm really sexy."

"So modest, as always," chuckled Brienne.

Jaime fixed her with a salacious look - "that's why you fucking love it" - before enthusiastically restarting their snog-fest.

"Oh god!" laughed Margaery, making her way to the door with her tea as quickly as she could, "I think I'll leave you two to it!"

"Mmmm," Jaime and Brienne said in unison, their words smushed against the other's lips.

* * *

With her lips wonderfully swollen from Jaime's kisses, Brienne eventually left the staff kitchen hand in hand with her husband to go to the staff room. When they arrived, they found most of her colleagues milling around, getting ready for the day. Unfortunately, Melara was also there, waiting. Knowing that she had to trust Jaime to be able to deal with the Melara issue on his own, and that she couldn't spend the day hovering around him like a vulture over an animal carcass, on spotting her rival, Brienne gave her husband a quick peck on the cheek. Then, she went over to the filing cabinet to search for the rota forms. Even though she _did _trust him, as she rifled through the piles of paper, Brienne kept one eye firmly on the unravelling situation.

Sensing her chance, Melara pounced instantly. With three quick strides, she was over next to Jaime, smiling up at him as if she was eyeing up a particularly delicious joint of beef. "Good morning, lion cub. How was your weekend?"

Jaime smiled at her stiffly, before saying, "my weekend was fine, thanks Melara. However, could I please remind you that my name is _Jaime _and ask you to call me that, please? We are at work. As colleagues, we should be professional."

The Hound let out a little snort at that statement. "As if you and your wife have ever been _professional _in the station."

Normally, Brienne would be horribly embarrassed about the Hound raising the fact that she and Jaime liked being physically affectionate at work, but seeing the way Melara's face fell, she was suddenly incredibly thankful for her gruff, no nonsense co-worker.

However, it did not take Melara long to recover herself. Raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at Jaime, Melara got over the small blow he had inflicted by giving him a sultry smile. "Okay, _Jaime. _I promise to always call you that... at work."

If Jaime had looked uncomfortable before, his expression after Melara's last statement turned stern. "I want you to call me Jaime all the time, because that is my name."

Melara smiled at him, as if his instruction did not bother her at all. "Whatever you say, Jaime. And... oh. This shirt really suits you. Is it new?" In a stereotypical Melara move, Casterly's newest sergeant lifted her hand and attempted to rest it on Jaime's bicep. To Brienne's immense relief, he batted her hand away before she got anywhere near touching him.

"No, it's not new. It's my uniform. I wear it every day."

Seeing Melara's smug grin wiped from her face was so immensely satisfying that Brienne had to stop herself laughing. Biting down on her bottom lip, she decided to remember she was a professional. So, once she found the forms she was looking for, she stood up to her full height and spoke to all her colleagues, trying not to revel in her triumph.

"Right everyone, I just need your attention for a few moments. We're going to have a quick staff meeting."

Robb Arryn rolled his eyes. "Not another one. I swear we didn't have this many staff meetings when Tywin was in charge."

"No, we didn't," conceded Jaime, crossing the room to stand next to Brienne. "But my father was also a murdering psychopath, so I think Brienne's copious staff meetings are a step up."

Giving him a brief, affectionate smile, Brienne then turned back to her colleagues. "All I wanted to do was just announce that I am changing the patrol rotas again."

"But didn't you do that last week?" asked Pod confusedly.

"Yes," replied Brienne patiently. "But I think it is important to keep you all on your toes. Therefore, I have decided to switch things up so Jaime, the Hound, and Pod are now a team, and Margaery and Melara are partners. If anyone has any problems with that, speak now or forever hold your peace."

There was a general mumble of assent to that decision from everyone except, of course, Melara. Clearing her throat in an infuriatingly cutesy way, she turned her eyes to Brienne. "Chief, I have a problem."

"What?" Brienne replied, barely able to keep the venom out of her voice.

Fixing her with an saccharine smile, Melara said, "ever since I arrived in Casterly, I've been partnered with Jaime and, as you know, we happen to make a pretty perfect pair. I would hate for that to be messed up for the sake of ... I don't know... group dynamics or _individual insecurities._"

Brienne went to respond to Melara's obvious provocation, but Jaime interrupted. "Sorry Melara. I think it would be good to mix it up. It will help you get to know the rest of the team better and avoid anyone getting too attached. And, anyway, I didn't have half as much fun with you as I did with my wench when we used to go on patrol. Did you know that we once stopped an onion smuggling operation?"

"You make it all sound so glamorous," smiled Brienne, slipping an arm around his waist. "I seem to recall that once you got kneed in the balls by a shoplifter and I had to pretend to care and coach you through the pain."

Jaime shook his head mockingly. "Who are you kidding, wench? You've always cared about my balls."

"Oh god!" shouted Margaery loudly, which caused Joff to woof. "I don't want to hear this! Come on Melara! We're going on patrol now."

As Margaery tried to pull Melara away from her devoted staring at Jaime, Melara whined, "but..."

"No! Now! We're going on patrol."

Once Margaery had yanked Melara out of the room, the rest of the Casterly Constabulary started to get ready to go about their duties. Brienne took the moment of distraction to turn to Jaime. "Thanks," she whispered. "I think you put her in her place."

Smiling, Jaime pressed a kiss to Brienne's still swollen lips. "Let's hope so."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Brienne found herself alone in the office, everyone having left the station to perform their duties, other than Jon who was down on the front desk. Still heart-warmed and happy from the morning's events, it took Brienne a little while to focus on the great volume of emails she found waiting for her in her inbox. Sifting through the junk, she eventually spotted two interesting messages. The first was an email from Doctor Gyldayn the coroner, outlining the preliminary results of Senelle's autopsy, while the second was from Belwas at Lannis House, with the requested CCTV footage. More intrigued by the potential murder case, Brienne opened the former first.

_Dear Inspector Lannister-Tarth,_

_Please find attached my preliminary findings from the autopsy of Ms Senelle Jones. Much of it is obscured in medical jargon, so I will outline briefly here my most salient findings in laymen's terms._

_To begin with, it is important to state that, in my professional opinion, Ms Jones died of respiratory failure. If this was a normal fit, epileptic or otherwise, one would not expect to see this outcome. Furthermore, she was a young, healthy woman, so this turn of events is very unusual. Considering Ms Jones' profile in combination with her symptoms, I became certain that some kind of external agent acted as the catalyst for her fit and contributed towards her death._

_I consequently performed extensive blood tests and found something very significant. Although there was no evidence of recreational drugs, her blood stream showed an abnormally high level of the neurotoxin tetrodotoxin, which is fatal to humans and can cause fits, loss of sensation in certain body parts, and respiratory failure. To determine how Ms Jones ended up with such a high level of this toxin in her body, my team and I examined her stomach contents and discovered that, perhaps forty minutes before she started fitting, Ms Jones had consumed a sandwich. Although the sandwich seems to have been a standard tuna and sweetcorn, there was also an extra ingredient: pufferfish. As you are perhaps aware, pufferfish naturally contains high levels of tetrodotoxin and, if not properly prepared by a competent chef, can cause the symptoms we saw in Ms Jones to any human who ingests it._

_Therefore, it is my professional opinion that Ms Jones died after ingesting a lethal amount of tetrodotoxin, which was found in the pufferfish._

_For further details, please see my full report._

_Kind Regards,_

_Doctor George Gyldayn_

On reading Doctor Gyldayn's report, Brienne's mouth dropped open in shock.

_Pufferfish? _she thought desperately. _Why would Senelle eat pufferfish unless it was planted? She worked for a catering company, for god's sake, and must have known the effects._

Then the next bombshell dropped.

_And the pufferfish were stolen from Wyman Manderly's catering company days before Orton's party. Was Senelle's death premeditated?_

In spite of herself, Brienne suddenly felt very excited. This was now unmistakeably a murder case, something meaty and juicy unlike anything Brienne had dealt with since she brought down the NWA, Casterly's original murderous cult. Quickly printing off both Doctor Gyldayn's email and his report to stick on her pin board, Brienne turned to the second email with the requested security camera footage for Lannis House.

_Hi Inspecta Tarth-Lannister,_

_Plese find atached the securitee footag from Lannis Hous from both days you requesteed. Plese don't tell Mr Merryweather. He won't be happy._

_Belwas_

There were two files attached: the first was from the night the pufferfish was stolen, and the second from the evening of Orton Merryweather's launch party. Eagerly clicking on the former, Brienne scanned to the window of time when Senelle was absent from the house, looking for clues. She was in for a shock. From the camera which overlooked the kitchens, Brienne could see that Senelle had left for the shops around 10pm, and that she locked everything up tight. Scrolling quickly through the track, Brienne saw that the corridor remained empty until 10.45pm, when a shadow appeared up against the far wall. Feeling her heart beating with excitement, Brienne hoped the figure would step into the light. However, they never did. Instead, she watched how the shadow slowly moved down the passageway, step by step, until it disappeared entirely.

_Damn, _thought Brienne.

However, after the shadow had been absent for about ten seconds, a black-gloved hand appeared in front of the camera, covering it entirely. The next thing Brienne knew, the footage ended, meaning that the intruder had succeeded in turning the camera off and masking their intentions.

Her heart in her mouth, Brienne wheeled back the footage, knowing that the owner of the flitting shadow was most likely the person who had stolen the pufferfish and, therefore, also most probably the person who had put the deadly fish in Senelle's sandwich. It did not take Brienne long to find an appropriately clear shot of the figure and, after screen-grabbing it, she printed it off to have a closer look.

Once the picture was in her hands, Brienne stared at it, trying to put together a potential profile of the intruder. The shadow most probably belonged to a man as he seemed fairly tall in comparison to all the lights that hung along the wall in the corridor. He also seemed to have a very good posture but, other than that, there were no distinguishing features. For a moment, Brienne thought this would perhaps rule out Taena on the basis of her sex, but then she reminded herself that, like Cersei Lannister before her, she possibly had a hidden network of lackeys and cult members who were willing to do her dirty work for her.

Not wasting any time, Brienne knew what she had to do. Pinning the picture of the elusive shadow to her pin board, she picked up her phone and instantly called Margaery.

"Hey babe," came her best friend's voice. "What up?"

"I've had a break in the Senelle Jones case," said Brienne excitedly, "and I need your help."

"Oooooh," replied Margaery as if she were genuinely intrigued. "What have you found out?"

Speaking as quickly as she could, Brienne explained everything she had learnt from Doctor Gyldayn and the security footage, telling Margaery that she suspected the shadowed figure who stole the pufferfish had probably also intentionally poisoned Senelle with it.

"That's some proper dodgy shit," concluded Margaery wisely. "What do you want me to do about it?"

Brienne could barely wait to get stuck in. "Recently, I learnt that Senelle was having an affair with Orton Merryweather and, consequently, that gives Mrs Merryweather a motive for wanting her love rival dead. Therefore, I need to you go to the Merryweather's house and see if you can have a casual conversation with Taena about what she knows."

When Margaery responded, she sounded a little nervous. "Me? But... I haven't done anything this big before. Can't you chose someone else?"

"No," said Brienne emphatically. "You are perfect for this task. You are insightful, great with people, and will be able to talk her round with good humour. And, from her former boss' glowing review, it seems Melara has some background in dealing with cases like this in Birmingham, so she'll be there to support you."

"Great," said Margaery tartly, as if she was no help at all. "I'm still not one hundred percent happy. Why don't send the Hound, Pod, and Jaime? Or even you? There's safety in crowds, after all."

Brienne couldn't help but smile down the phone. "Firstly, I think having a discussion about your feelings about your husband's mistress is better done with a woman. Secondly, the Hound, Pod, and Jaime are the three least qualified people in the universe to have this sensitive chat with Taena Merryweather. At the mention of anything illicitly sexual, Pod goes the colour of a rhubarb, the Hound is the least tactful person I've ever met, and Jaime and Taena used to shag. And as for me, do you think Taena would really want to talk to her old flame's wife about this? No, I don't think so. Finally, I trust you to get the job done, so can you do this for me?"

There was a momentary pause and then a sigh. "Alright Chief, I'll do it. I'll make a recording too so you can listen back and parse for clues."

"Thanks," smiled Brienne, feeling pieces of this puzzle were starting to come together. "I'd appreciate it if you could do this as quickly as possible."

"Will do," replied Margaery, "as soon as Melara stops flirting with Aurane Waters who has just bloody stopped her to ask for directions."

Laughing, Brienne said. "Okay. Thanks so much! Keep me posted."

"See you later."

"Bye."

After hanging up on Margaery, Brienne returned to the pinboard to look at the shadowy figure. There was something familiar about him, Brienne thought, but she could not place him. He was not round enough to be Orton Merryweather and, anyway, why would Orton have to make such a shifty entrance into his own kitchens? The potential alternatives were a lackey of Orton's that Brienne had briefly seen, who would have been conspicuous in the kitchens, or somebody else that had something in for Senelle, or even the Merryweathers.

It hit her after a few minutes of mulling it over. From memory, Thoros Myr had seemed quite tall and well put together in his video, even if Brienne had not got a good look at him. He also had a reason for wanting to ruin Orton's night; destroying his mayoral campaign. Yes, Arya had been adamant that Thoros would never stoop so low, yet, she had not been party to the conversations between Orton and Thoros. It was possible she had put her faith in the wrong man.

Not waiting another second, Brienne grabbed her car keys. She knew what she had to do.

* * *

_The Red Flag Bookshop _in Lannisport was just as Brienne imagined it from the description given to her by Gendry, Arya, and Hot Pie. While the colour was peeling off from the front door, there was a great big hammer and sickle flag from the roof which did better than any coat of paint at telling a customer what to expect within. Brienne's initial impression was confirmed even more firmly when she went inside, heralded by the sound of a tinkling bell. As she had guessed, there were lots of bookshelves crammed with political books, but with room for snugs and cubbyholes for people to read. There was no counter with a till, but there was a large armchair in the corner with an attached money box, illuminated by the light of a reading lamp. It was a type of throne, as it was occupied by a man reading Thomas Piketty's _Capital in the Twenty-First Century. _Brienne recognised him instantly.

It was Thoros Myr.

"What are you doing here, Inspector Lannister-Tarth?" he asked, not looking up from his book. "I didn't take you to be a political radical; you seem the type more likely to be devoted to the status quo."

Brienne bristled at the easy way Thoros was judging her. "How do you know who I am?"

After closing his book and resting it on the arm of his chair, Thoros looked up at her, smiling. For the first time, Brienne noticed how intense his eyes were. "Everybody round here knows of the intrepid police sergeant who rode into Casterly on the back of a white horse and saved her little village. You are quite the local hero."

Brienne blushed at the comment. "Thank you."

Thoros gave her a cheeky smile, that would have perhaps only been appropriate if they were friends. "That and I once went on a date with your friend Margaery. She couldn't stop babbling about you."

Brienne seemed to recall that Margaery had told her she had escaped out of the toilet window halfway through that particular date, but she did not think that was pertinent to bring up at this point. "Mr Myr, I..."

"I'm not interested in talking about Orton Merryweather's party," the revolutionary with a top-knot said, standing up to his full height, his mood changing in a flash. "Everything I want to say, I said in that video."

Getting her notebook out, Brienne prepared for an interview. "I'm really not interested in your political statements, or your beef with Orton Merryweather and society in general. It's just on the night that you decided to crash Orton's party, a woman was murdered, and I am just trying to determine the course of events that led to her death."

Thoros' eyes went wide. "You can't be talking about Senelle! She had a fit, didn't she?"

His reaction was not what Brienne had been expecting. It was too... emotional. "In light of recent evidence, I would argue that Senelle's fit was not natural." Thoros' expression was one of such horror that it pushed Brienne to ask him a further question. "Mr Myr, could you please tell me how you knew Ms Jones?"

At that, Thoros crossed his arm defensively across his chest. "Just from around, you know?"

"No, I don't know," said Brienne, fixing him with a stern look. "You will have to tell me."

At her authoritative tone, Thoros gave Brienne a tight shrug. "She was one of the smallfolk, wasn't she?"

It took Brienne a moment to remember where she had heard that phrase before, but then the image of a worried Arya Stark came to her mind. When Brienne had interviewed her in the park, she had used the exact same phrase to describe Senelle.

_I know the Brotherhood had nothing to do with Senelle's death. She was one of us, one of the smallfolk. Why would we want to hurt her?_

"Could you define _smallfolk _for me, Mr Myr? It seems an interesting phrase."

Thoros looked down at his feet nervously. "It's just one of those sayings."

"I don't think it is," replied Brienne firmly. "I've heard someone else describe Senelle in the exact same way before, someone who is part of your little book club."

At her dismissal of the Brotherhood, Thoros looked back up at her furiously. "We are not a _little book club. _We are a serious political group! Senelle thought so too... she was one of us..."

Snapping her head up from her notebook, Brienne finally put it together. In an attempt to cultivate a folksy, authentic feel to their revolutionary outfit, the members of Thoros' reading group clearly called themselves the _Smallfolk. _"Are you trying to tell me that Senelle was a member of the Brotherhood? That she was one of the _smallfolk?"_

Thoros nodded. "And that's why we would never hurt her. She was our comrade."

This new fact changed the picture Brienne was building considerably. Was Orton aware that his mistress was a member of the political group trying to bring him down? And what about Taena? Would the knowledge that Senelle was a snake in the grass have added extra venom to their relationship?

"Your comrade?" asked Brienne carefully. "Could you tell me what that entails, exactly?"

Thoros sighed, suddenly looking very tired. "Ever since Senelle came out of prison, she was committed to bettering herself and righting her wrongs, especially towards the village she grew up in. She was devoted to our cause and wanted to stop Orton Merryweather ruining the village with his noisy, polluting HS3 project."

Knowing the only way to push Thoros more was to reveal Senelle's secret, Brienne chose her words carefully as she said, "and yet, Mrs Merryweather seemed to be under the impression that Senelle was having an affair with her husband."

"That impression would be correct."

Remembering the empowered, raging, inspiring leader from the video on the night of Orton's party, Brienne could barely believe this was the same man now standing in front of her. He looked distressed, almost guilty, and his transformation had begun the second Brienne mentioned Senelle had been murdered.

"How did you find out that Senelle and Orton were having an affair?" asked Brienne gently, not wanting to spook him.

Thoros would not look at her as he began stammering. "I... I..."

"Mr Myr," said Brienne, pressing her advantage. "If you cared at all about your _comrade, _I advise you tell me what you know about Orton and Senelle. Given the evidence that was uncovered by the autopsy, it seems very likely that she was murdered. Surely you want to help me put the person who did this behind bars?"

Apparently, Brienne had managed to prick at Thoros' conscience, because his expression suddenly became warmer. "Would you like a cup of tea? I feel you should sit down."

Five minutes later, Brienne found herself perched on a stool next to Thoros, drinking a cup of some weird kind of Tibetan tea and watching him intently. Sensing that Thoros was the type who liked to tell a good tale, she put her notebook down and prepared to listen. It was vital she got as many details from him as possible, and she felt appearing like an inquisitor would deter her target. Consequently, she took on the air of one of his acolytes at his reading group and listened reverently.

"I first met Senelle soon after she came out of prison two years ago. She struck me as one of those people who was desperate for a bit of affection, and therefore was always susceptible to the charms of a charismatic person who made her feel special. I guess that's why she followed Cersei so devotedly."

Thoros took a sip of his tea. "Initially, she came into the shop because she wanted self-help books. Her time in prison made her realise she needed to change her life, and she thought that positive mantras and slogans would make herself feel better about what she did. I told her that instead of trying to ignore the past, she should atone for it."

"How did you suggested that she could atone?" asked Brienne, conscious of the way Thoros presented himself as if to appear some sort of prophet.

"Senelle was imprisoned for her involvement in a cult that kept an entire village stupid and oppressed. I just thought she might want a hand in liberating it."

Resisting the urge to pick up her notebook, Brienne asked, "what does that mean?"

"It means preventing the environment of Casterly being ruined, preventing the village from being swamped by outsider townies who push the house prices up for locals. It's being true to Casterly's working class character has always been obscured by those bastard Lannisters of Casterly Rock... present company accepted."

Brienne felt a smile briefly quirk her lips; her name clearly preceded her. "And you and Senelle were committed to the cause?"

"Yes we were... but then... I... I..."

"What?"

Thoros sighed. "I was in a motorbike accident."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Brienne, not sure where this was leading.

"Best thing that ever happened to be," said Thoros, smiling with such beatitude that Brienne found it strange and disconcerting. "When I was young, I had dabbled with the religion of the Lord of the Light - like I had experimented with Buddhism and Taoism too - but when I had the accident, I was technically dead for ten minutes. During that time, I met _him_."

Brienne furrowed her brow in confusion. "Who?"

"The Lord of Light," Thoros smiled, lost in a daze, "and he told he that it was my duty to protect the ordinary people from the evil that was to come to Casterly. He told me that I was Azor Ahai, and was destined to save everyone from the darkness."

Even though Brienne thought Thoros' near death experience was as equally ridiculous as Melara's psychic advisor, she decided to go with it, if only for the sake of getting more information out of him. "Right... did that make you more committed to your cause?"

"Of course," nodded Thoros, "but it also made me more determined to see the Lord of Light again."

Momentarily considering whether it was worth talking to a literal madman, Brienne nevertheless pressed ahead. "And how did you do that?"

"Drugs," Thoros mumbled. "I'm not proud of it, but I tried out all sorts to get back into that enlightened state where I had met my lord and saviour. I tried almost everything - ecstasy, cocaine, LSD - but only one thing worked. Dragonfire."

Brienne's heart sank. Dragonfire was a drug that had hit the streets back when she worked in London and had been sold almost exclusively by the Targaryen drug gang headed by Daenerys Targaryen herself. Although Daenerys was now in prison, it saddened Brienne to hear that Thoros had managed to get hold of some in Lannisport.

"Did taking the drug effect your relationship with the rest of the Brotherhood... especially Senelle?"

Thoros shook his head. "No, they continued to treat me as the Messiah. It ruined my relationship with my wallet though. I had to borrow money from all kinds of dodgy types to keep up with my habit. Senelle wanted to help me, but I wouldn't tell her what was wrong. As I became more and more transfixed on seeing the Lord of Light again, Senelle became more focussed on rectifying the problems in Casterly. She became aware that Orton was planning his Mayoral campaign, centred around his commitment to the HS3 project, and was determined to stop it."

"She wanted to stop Orton?" Brienne asked, confused, "but she was sleeping with him? Wasn't she?"

Thoros nodded. "She was, but that was only so she could find out his intentions towards the village. Orton poured all his plans for his campaign and Casterly out to her in what he thought was pillow talk. She reported it straight to me."

Brienne's mind was cast back to Senelle, Cersei's bubble-blowing assistant who Margaery had once hit with a big sign. She was not aware that she was capable of such depth. "And with that information, you built up your campaign to stop him."

"We did," concurred Thoros, a sense of sadness bearing heavily on his shoulders.

At his tone, Brienne eyed him suspiciously. "Shouldn't you be happy about all this? Senelle's information allowed you to create the perfect campaign against Orton."

"It did," he sighed, undoing his top knot and letting his hair fall around his shoulders. "But for all her loyalty to me... I betrayed her."

When Thoros' story took this dark turn, Brienne tightened her hand into a fist. She wasn't understanding how he could have possibly betrayed Senelle. They both wanted the same thing, surely?

"How?"

"Dragonfire," said Thoros wearily. "I owed so much money... I couldn't keep it up. So, when Orton Merryweather approached me asking whether we could work together and offered me a great deal of money to do so, I couldn't say no."

Brienne's mouth opened in shock. "You were working with Orton?"

"Yes," replied Thoros, his guilt suddenly heavy and all-consuming. "He decided that it would be clever to use the Brotherhood to pass subliminal messaging onto the people of Lannisport and Casterly to encourage them to vote for him. We'd use double negatives, create slogans that if read a certain way were in support of Orton and HS3. Look at all the graffiti around town if you don't believe me. In exchange, he gave me blood money and cleared all my debt."

Brienne was flabbergasted. "Did you tell Senelle?"

"No," snorted Thoros, as if that were a crazy suggestion. "Would you have told your most loyal supporter you were a traitor to your cause? No, I kept quiet, but... Orton didn't. As he did not know that Senelle was in the Brotherhood, he blabbed my treachery to her when they were staying in a hotel together. When she learned the truth, she stormed out and broke up with Orton, before coming straight to me, telling me I was a liar and fake."

Wondering whether this was the occasion Taena had witnessed Orton and Senelle at the hotel in Lannisport, Brienne had to resist picking up her notebook once more. "And did she threaten to expose you?"

Thoros shook his head vehemently. "No. Senelle was a good person who cared for me, even though I betrayed her. She left the Brotherhood though, not wanting to be involved with an organisation devoted to propping up Orton Merryweather. To my eternal shame, that was the last time I saw her."

Not speaking immediately, Brienne took the opportunity to mull over what Thoros had said. In spite of his big puppy-dog sad eyes, Brienne thought that this confession brought Thoros into the frame; perhaps he feared Senelle would spread the truth about his deal with Orton and expose him as a fake. However, Brienne wasn't entirely convinced, because Thoros seemed genuinely remorseful. All things considered, Brienne thought it was more damning on Orton himself. Senelle held the key to his political downfall; in light of that, would Orton Merryweather have been willing to kill the lover who betrayed him?

"Thank you for talking to me, Thoros," she smiled sympathetically. "Your information has helped no end."

Sniffing, Thoros said, "it's good for the soul."

Finishing the last of her tea, Brienne got to her feet before suddenly remembering. "Oh, there is one more thing you can do for me."

"Yes?"

"Could you stand up for me?"

Thoros did as she requested, although he looked confused as he did so. Getting her phone out of her pocket, Brienne turned the torch on and shone the light at him, casting his shadow against the nearest wall.

It was not a match.

* * *

Although her mind was still awash with the information Thoros had given her, by the time Brienne got back to the car, she realised the best thing to do was to put it all down in her notebook and leave it for the next day. Ever since her talk with Jaime, she was determined to put him first, and that meant leaving the case for the morning, even if it meant she had to put away her excitement for a while. Once she had written everything down, Brienne stored in her bag and then drove to a nearby restaurant. _Amuse bouche _was the pretentious French place that she had stood Jaime up at, so, wanting to make it right, she booked a table for 7.30 and hoped he would come with.

Once she got back to the station, Brienne found Margaery waiting for her, tape recorder in hand. "Here is Taena Merryweather's interview," she said, picking up her bag as she did so. "She was quite feisty so... have fun."

"I will do," laughed Brienne, putting the recorder in her bag along with the notebook. "But first... my husband. Do you know where he is?"

Noting Brienne's expression, Margaery grinned knowingly. "I think he's in the kitchen. I hope you have a good time tonight."

"Oh, we will."

Once Margaery had said goodbye, Brienne went to find Jaime. As expected, he was in the staff kitchen by the sink, washing up a couple of the mugs. Smiling, Brienne crept up behind him and wrapped her arms round his waist, kissing his cheek as she did.

"Hi wench," he said, putting his prosthetic on top of her hand. "How was your day?"

"Interesting," replied Brienne cryptically. "But enough of that now. I have a proposition for you."

Abandoning the mug he was washing, Jaime turned around in her arms and then pulled her close, giving her a hungry expression. "Ooooh. I like it when you proposition me."

"I'm not propositioning you in _that _way," Brienne laughed. "I just wondered whether you wanted to come to _Amuse bouche _in Lannisport with me tonight? I've got a table for 7.30. Will you let me make it up to you?"

His smile grew larger as he squeezed her. "I will."

They wasted a little bit of time kissing in the kitchen, before Jaime tucked Brienne's arm under his and made to leave the station. They were all ready to go once they had got their bags and said goodbye to the Hound and the Robbs, but unfortunately found themselves impeded. Melara Hetherspoon was blocking off the main exit.

"Oh Jaime, I..."

"Not now, Melara. I've got a date with my wench."

Not allowing her a word in edgeways, Jaime led Brienne past Melara, talking excitedly about their date. Even though the sight of her husband so enthused about going out with her made Brienne's heart flutter, she could not help but briefly glance back at Melara.

As their eyes met, it seemed to Brienne that Melara wanted to breath fire.

When Brienne got home, she picked out the dress that Jaime affectionately dubbed the blue masturbatory fantasy dress, wanting to look sexy for him. Trying to keep, Melara's stormy glare out of her mind, she focussed on her make-up, needing to distract herself. However, In the end, it was only Jaime's kisses and his enthusiastic excitement that banished her rival entirely from her thoughts, and once she was gone Brienne threw herself into the evening with aplomb.

Sitting at the table in _Amuse bouche, _Jaime and Brienne held hands as they laughed over the confusing menu which was almost entirely in French. The evening grew even more hysterical when Brienne accidentally ordered a plate of snails, and Jaime dared her to eat them all. They then shared a plate of moules and talked idly about redecorating the kitchen. It was so nice to just spend time with him without the fears and worries that she so often imposed on herself overwhelming them. There was nothing more wonderful that just being Jaime and Brienne, for once, with not a care in the world.

The pull between them was so electric that, once they got home, Brienne had to use all her willpower to prevent herself from ripping Jaime out of his maroon suit on their front doorstep. Although initially successful, she failed spectacularly once they got inside, and the two of them left a sartorial trail across the living room - his jacket, her dress, his shirt, her shoes, his jeans - before they collapsed together on their bed in a naked heap, kissing so furiously that Brienne could taste blood. Feeling Jaime hot and hard against her thigh, Brienne knew she did not want this to be over quickly. She wanted to savour it. Prolonging the moment, Brienne began to plant a trail of kisses from his lips, to his jaw, to his neck, to his chest, to his hip, while he begged her to touch his cock with gasps and moans.

"Wench," he groaned as she pulled him up into seated position, his legs hanging off their bed. Settling herself on her knees between his thighs, Brienne began to kiss along his tensing and relaxing legs, laughing affectionately against his skin as he let out animalistic groans. "Wench, _please_."

She had just begun to swirl her tongue around the head of his cock - which set him running his fingers through her hair - when there was a loud intrusive sound.

RING. RING... RING. RING.

"Don't you dare," growled Jaime, as Brienne stopped her ministrations and turned to look at her phone. "You are busy."

"It's my work phone," said Brienne, smiling teasingly. "I've got to answer it. It's not going to be Sansa calling for a girly chat. It will be something serious."

As Brienne got up from her kneeling position, Jaime flopped back on the bed, looking disappointed. "You owe me, wench."

She fixed him with a mischievous grin. "Why don't you touch yourself for a bit, to keep yourself in the mood. It will be a nice show for me."

As Jaime's expression collapsed into surprise at her wantonness, Brienne picked up her phone, trying to suppress her laughter in favour of professionalism. Ignoring the unrecognised number, she pressed it to her ear expectantly. "Good evening, this is Inspector Lannister-Tarth speaking. How can I help you?"

"Hi," came a slightly timorous voice from the other end of the line. "It's Sam Tarly here."

"Hi Sam, what can I do for you?"

There was a momentary, tense pause before the paramedic said, "this evening, Talisa and I were just called out to another emergency... like Senelle. When we arrived, she was fitting, drooling, and her eyes were rolling back into her head. By the time she arrived at the hospital, she was paralysed. Doctor Ebrose has her now, but... the prognosis doesn't look good."

Brienne's heart nearly fell through the floor. One murder was bad enough, but two? Bracing herself, Brienne asked, "who is it, Sam? Who did you bring to the hospital?"

After her question, there was another pregnant pause as Sam continued his anxious worrying, before he finally found the courage to break his silence.

"It was Taena Merryweather."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN-DUN-DUN!!!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that, and I would love to hear your theories about what is going on in Casterly. As ever, I luuuurrrvveee comments and kudos, so please consider leaving them...
> 
> Next time... Brienne has to help Jaime deal with this latest shock...


	14. Moral Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne reel from recent revelations...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for coming back for the latest chapter! I hope you like this one (and if you do, please consider leaving comments and kudos).
> 
> Although I haven't answered comments from the previous chapter yet, I am reading them all, and will hopefully catch up tomorrow!

The second Brienne hung up the phone on Sam Tarly, Jaime was looking at her suspiciously. "What's the matter?"

Taking a deep breath, she said, "I think you need to sit down."

"I _am _sitting down."

"No, somewhere comfortable. Under the covers."

Even though Jaime did not look wholly convinced, he obeyed Brienne and crawled back up the bed, tucking himself in on his side. "What is it?"

Putting her phone back down on the bedside cabinet, Brienne slipped in next to him and reached for his hand, squeezing his fingers. In spite of her best intentions, that only made Jaime look more worried.

"I don't know how to tell you this... I don't know where to start."

Minutes ago, Jaime had looked excited, his face flushed with desire. Now, he seemed panicked. "Wench, you're scaring me. Who was that on the phone?"

"That was Samwell Tarly," replied Brienne, thinking it was easiest to begin with him and work her way out. "He phoned me to tell me that he's just taken someone else to the hospital with similar symptoms to Senelle."

A cloud of confusion crossed Jaime's features. "What? Fitting?"

Brienne nodded. "I hadn't gotten around to telling you all, but this morning I got the autopsy report about Senelle. It seems that she died after ingesting pufferfish... it has huge levels of tetrodotoxin, a deadly neurotoxin, which is almost always fatal to humans."

Understanding began to dawn. "Like the pufferfish that went missing?"

"Almost _certainly_ the pufferfish that went missing. It's a rare delicacy, there's not going to be tons of the stuff floating around in Casterly, and... I also got the CCTV footage from Lannis House through today. It clearly shows a shadowy figure turning off the cameras around the time it was stolen."

Jaime went a little pale. "So... it's definitely a murder case, then?"

"I think so," said Brienne gently.

"And not just Senelle," replied Jaime, putting things together. "This second person too." There was a pause before he asked her the question she had been dreading. "Who is it?"

Linking his fingers more firmly with hers, Brienne said, "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Jaime, but it's Taena."

As that news sank in, Jaime just blinked, his face blank. "Taena?" he rasped eventually, "as in... my ex-girlfriend Taena?"

Brienne nodded, struggling to find the words. "Sam told me that she's currently still alive, but the prognosis is not good." At that damning statement on Taena's chances, Jaime looked down at his lap at their entwined hands. Brienne did not really know what to say, so she just hoped her presence was helping. However, after a few seconds of staring, Jaime let go of her hand and laid down, rolling over onto his side and drawing his covers up to his chin. He even turned his bedside lamp off, indicating he wanted to sleep. For a fleeting moment, Brienne understood what Jaime must have been feeling when she went cold for weeks and weeks and weeks. Wanting to help him, she copied him by turning off her bedroom lamp and laying down beside him, shuffling close so she could sling an arm around his waist. She felt him stiffen under her touch.

"Jaime..." Brienne began, looking for the words.

"I'm fine," he interrupted, even though she could hear that his voice was hoarse. "I'm fine."

Moving closer so she was pressed against his back, Brienne rested her head on his shoulder and began to draw slow circles on his stomach, trying to be consoling. "Jaime," she said, hoping that the sounding of his name would draw him back to her. "It's okay to be sad. Taena was a big part of your life... _is _a big part of your past. It's only natural to be upset. You don't have to hide that from me."

"But you are my wife. She is just my ex. You don't want to hear any of that."

"I _do,_" insisted Brienne, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. "Didn't we decide that communicating was important? If you are sad, I don't want you to have to hide that from me in some valiant attempt to protect my ego. I know you love me. If you are upset, _be upset. _I'm here... if you need me."

At that statement, Jaime let out a little sniff and attempted to roll over in her arms. Shuffling backwards to let him do so, Brienne had her arms open ready for him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled as she pulled him close.

"Don't be sorry," Brienne insisted, petting his hair. "You loved Taena once. It's only natural for you to be sad about this."

As Jaime pressed his face into her shoulder, Brienne felt his tears pooling on her neck. "It's just... I waited so many years for her to commit to me in the way I was committed to her and she never did. It always felt like she was just _there, _somewhere out my reach. And now she's gone forever."

Brienne shook her head as she continued to stroke his hair. "Not yet she's not. Given what happened to Senelle, Doctor Ebrose was hopefully aware that it was tetrodotoxin at work, and therefore he may be able to counter the worst effects. First thing in the morning, we'll give the hospital a call and find out what's going on."

"Okay," he said timidly, letting her quiet him with a kiss.

Even though Brienne's plan for the morning seemed to reassure Jaime, they still had a restless night, with Jaime only relaxing when Brienne held him tight and whispered soothing things. She continued to hold him even when he finally calmed and went to sleep, but then found that she herself struggled to join him as her mind turned to bigger questions.

_What connects Senelle and Taena? Who could want both of them dead?_

Although she wanted to focus on the mystery - for Jaime, for the victims, for her own curiosity - eventually her husband's even, level breathing lulled her into joining him in sleep and, when she woke up, the morning light was creeping through the gap in the curtains. After checking the time, Brienne extricated herself from Jaime's arms, got out of bed, and went to put a dressing gown on. Then, she tried to ring the hospital to inquire about Taena. When she was told she would be given no details because she wasn't family, Brienne tried her man on the inside, Sam, again.

"Hey Sam," said Brienne quietly as she snuck out of the room, not wanting to disturb Jaime. "It's me, Brienne."

"Hi Brienne," replied Sam. "How can I help you?"

"I just wondered if you had any updates on Taena Merryweather? I rang the hospital, but because I'm not family they wouldn't give me any information. My husband and Taena were good... _friends, _so we are anxious for news."

As per usual, Sam took his time in answering, no doubt wondering whether it was the correct thing to do to pass information onto the Chief Inspector. However, the emotional appeal about Jaime clearly tugged at his heart strings, so eventually Sam was coaxed into saying, "I'm very sorry, but she died a few hours ago. Doctor Ebrose tried to pump her stomach... but it was too late."

Brienne suddenly felt a chill run down her spine. She had never been Taena's number one fan, but the effect this would undoubtedly have on Jaime was enough to turn her stomach. Trying to remain focussed, Brienne said, "thank you for letting me know, Sam. It was very kind of you."

"You're welcome," he replied gently. "We'll speak soon."

"Thanks."

After she hung up, Brienne sighed as she pulled her dressing gown tightly around herself, putting her phone back in her pocket. Whatever the truth was about Taena and Senelle's deaths, it seemed that, once again, they were the product of a deeply hidden conspiracy, probably all centred around Orton Merryweather and his plans for Casterly.

_But first things first, _thought Brienne. _Jaime..._

Being as quiet as she could, Brienne slipped back into their bedroom, expecting to find Jaime still asleep. However, to her surprise, he was sitting bolt upright, his green eyes on her.

"Any news?" he asked, barely able to stop his voice quivering.

Her heart breaking for him, Brienne sat down on the bed next to Jaime and reached out for his hand. She didn't have to say anything at all, as the expression on her face conveyed what had happened better than words ever could.

"She's dead, isn't she?" asked Jaime, his voice breaking.

All Brienne could do was be the supportive wife, hold him in her arms, and let him cry into her shoulder.

* * *

Later that morning when Brienne arrived at the station alone, she was immediately confronted by Melara, who was wearing a sour expression.

"Where is Jaime?" she asked, not bothering to call Brienne _Chief._

Trying to keep her temper, Brienne bit back, "I will tell you all when you, along with the rest of the team, are in my office for a staff meeting."

"Not another one," muttered the Hound from behind her.

"Yes, _another one," _Brienne replied, "sharpish."

Five minutes later she had the whole of the Casterly Constabulary - bar Jaime - in her office, and the first question was about his absence.

"Where is Jaime?" asked Pod, repeating Melara's earlier question.

Brienne sighed. She didn't know how to go about this without exposing Jaime's heart. That morning, she had kissed him goodbye and told him to spend the day at home coming to terms with things, and that she would cover for him at work. Now was the time to cover for him, and she didn't really know what to say.

"Last night," she began, figuring it was better to stick with the facts over feelings, "Taena Merryweather was taken to hospital. She was fitting, in a very similar way to Senelle Jones."

Melara's mouth dropped open in shock. "But when Margaery and I saw her yesterday she was _fine. _How can someone go from being healthy one minute to on death's door the next?"

Even though Brienne really did not like Melara, her question at least provided a good segway into the truth. "Yesterday, I received information from the coroner that suggests that Senelle died after ingesting a high level of the neurotoxin _tetrodotoxin,_which is found in unprepared pufferfish. Because we know that pufferfish were recently stolen from Lannis House, it seems likely that the thief committed the crime with the intention of poisoning Senelle and, most probably, Taena as well."

An icy silence pervaded the room and her colleagues started to exchange worried glances. Eventually, Jon broke the stillness.

"Is this like last time?"

"Last time?" asked Melara, looking a little confused. "What do you mean _last time?"_

"He means the time we all had to take out Lannister's bitch of a sister in the supermarket," growled the Hound, patting Joff on the head. "He means is this another fucking conspiracy?" Even if this _was _a ridiculously complicated conspiracy, it still had a human impact, as Brienne could not help but think of Jaime, who was no doubt at home wondering if he should have spotted things sooner.

"I don't know if it is a conspiracy," said Brienne, "I don't even know for sure that Taena Merryweather died in the same way as Senelle, only an autopsy would confirm that."

"Then what _are _you saying, then?" asked Melara rudely.

Trying to soar above Sergeant Hetherspoon's attempt to undermine her, Brienne made her voice calm and clear when she replied. "I am just telling you so you know why Jaime isn't here. As most of you are aware, him and Taena used to be an item, so we thought it was best he had some time to grieve today."

Melara's grin turned nasty. "That must be galling for you, the fact that your husband seems so hung up on an ex."

Brienne aimed for serene innocence in her response. "At least Taena _was _his ex, Melara, unlike some other people I know."

Melara looked as if she wanted to spit nails.

After reassuring the team that there was nothing yet concrete enough to suggest this was a conspiracy, Brienne asked them to conduct themselves as usual and go off and perform their duties. Most of them complied without complaint, but Melara and Margaery hung back. While the former just fixed Brienne with a contemptuous look, the latter was a little more sympathetic.

"Is Jaime alright?" said Margaery consolingly, before adding, "are _you _alright?"

Brienne understood what Margaery was asking, but she was clearly trying to say it in code because Melara was still in the room: _are you alright that your husband seems to have had an emotional reaction to Taena's death?_

All things considered, Brienne felt she _was _alright because she had one hundred percent faith in Jaime's love for her.

"I'm fine," she smiled breezily, "and Jaime is too, deep down. I think it's just a bit of a shock for him, so we both thought it was best he took the day off."

Margaery seemed relieved by that response. "Good, I'm glad to hear it. What are you going to do today?"

"Well, while you two are out on patrol, I thought I would give Taena's interview a listen. It will certainly shed light on the whole situation... especially considering recent events."

Margaery gave her a reassuring nod. "Sounds great. If you need any questions answered about the interview, you can always give us a call."

"Thanks," smiled Brienne, glad she had Margaery at her back. "Have a good morning."

"Will do," she replied, before beckoning Melara to follow her with a quick hand gesture.

Once Margaery and Melara were gone, Brienne found the recorder containing Taena Merryweather's interview and connected it to her iPhone speakers. She thought she needed to hear this in full surround sound to totally immerse herself in the conversation. Unlike Senelle, who Brienne had only put together through whispers and secondhand memories, Taena at least had one chance to say her peace.

The first voice Brienne heard was Margaery's, competent and assured.

_"Interview with Mrs Taena Merryweather on Monday 7th March 2022, 11.30am. Present Constable Margaery Tyrell and Sergeant Melara Hetherspoon, as well as Mrs Merryweather herself."_

_"Is this going to take long?" _asked Taena, her tone annoyed._"It's only I am going to get a mani-pedi, and I don't want to take all morning talking about the Brotherhood, or my husband, or Senelle bloody Jones."_

_"Do those topics disinterest you, Mrs Merryweather?" _replied Margaery almost sarcastically.

Taena made an annoyed tutting sound._"Of course they do. I don't really care for my husband's stupid mayoral campaign, so why should I care for any of the chaos that happened at the launch party. It's his own fault."_

_"Why do you say that?" _interjected Melara.

Taena sighed._"I advised him not to run for mayor. You know how these things are. There will be journalists all over us, trying to dig up things from the past that could be seen as unsavoury to some people."_

_"What _things _would these be?" _asked Margaery carefully._"Are you talking about your divorce? Or...?"_

Margaery never got to finish her question, because Melara cut across her._"Or are you talking about your affair with Jaime Lannister?"_

Taena let out a loud splutter._"My affair with Jaime Lannister? I am _not _having an affair with Jaime Lannister."_

_"Well you _were _having an affair with Jaime at some point," _Melara continued, like a dog unwilling to let go of a particularly juicy bone._"Who is to say it hasn't continued? Who is to say it isn't still going on now?"_

Brienne wondered if that was a question Melara was asking Taena, or whether she had just inserted it to wind up Brienne, knowing she would be listening to the tape.

_"Excuse me!" _huffed Taena, clearly quite annoyed at that suggestion. _"Firstly, Jaime is happily married. It is one thing to ruin my own marriage, but someone else's? That's just cruel. And secondly, I thought this was meant to be a casual discussion, not you two accusing me of cheating on my husband!"_

Margaery intervened, attempting to smooth things over._"I am sorry for my partner's accusations, Mrs Merryweather. It is indicative of _her issues, _not yours."_

_"Good!" _replied Taena, her voice still stormy._"Because of you are going to accuse anyone of breaking our marriage vows this time round, it's Orton with that blonde hussy!"_

_"I assume you are talking about Senelle Jones," _said Margaery levelly.

At that statement, Taena's whole demeanour changed. It was wily, suspicious._ "Oh, I see what you are doing here. You are trying to make it seem like I would be happy to see Senelle dead."_

_"No," _replied Margaery,_"we are just trying to get to the bottom of things. We told you that we suspect Ms Jones was murdered, so we need to talk to the people around her, to discover whether anyone would have a motive to kill her. And, unfortunately, as the scorned wife, some would argue that you are suspect number one."_

It was clear from the sound of a scrapping chair and the clicking of heels that Taena had got up from wherever she was sitting and was now pacing the room. _"Why would I bother killing her? Mine and Orton's marriage is based on a transaction. I get a nice house, designer handbags, and a fast car, and he gets a trophy wife who he can use to cover up his misdeeds with her dazzling smile." _Brienne suspected that, at that exact moment, Taena had attempted to demonstrate her smile to Margaery and Melara. _"I might go to newspapers to get revenge on my manwhore of a husband and his tart, but I wouldn't kill anyone."_

Margaery spoke next. _"But we seem to have evidence that you were exceptionally angry when you discovered Orton was having an affair with Senelle. One of our officers witnessed an argument between you and your husband."_

_"I suppose you are referring to Brienne Lannister-Tarth?"_

_"Correct."_

_"Well, yes. She did witness an argument, but that was straight after I had discovered my husband was out at a hotel in Lannisport with her. I wouldn't have such problems if he was discreet, but he insisted on parading that Brotherhood whore around publicly."_

There was a pause, before Melara asked, _"what do you mean Brotherhood whore?"_

_"I saw them arguing, didn't I?" _replied Taena tersely. _"He was accusing her of betraying him to Thoros Myr all the while shouting about their affair. So... if anyone has a motive for wanting Senelle dead, you'd better look at my husband. The poor tart betrayed him, and he detests disloyalty."_

Margaery clearly recognise the attempt to avoid blame in Taena's accusations against Orton, so she responded a compelling question. _"But haven't you been disloyal, Taena? You and Orton were divorced before, partly because of your affair with Jaime, and now here you are trying to put him in the frame for murder."_

Taena let out a chilly laugh, like cold mountain water. _"Well, if Orton really is the murderer, I'll be his next victim, won't I?"_

Brienne's heart felt as if it was turning to stone as she listened to the next few seconds of the recording. One of Taena's employees entered the room and Brienne could hear distant whispering, before Taena spoke again.

_"Thank you for your time, Constable Tyrell and Sergeant Hetherspoon, but I really must be off now. I can't keep my manicurist waiting."_

_"Yes... thank you talking to us," _said Margaery carefully. _"If we have any further questions, we are sure to be in contact."_

Brienne then heard Taena being led from the room by her employee as Margaery concluded the recording. _"Interview terminated on __Monday 7th March 2022, 11.37am."_

After the sound of Margaery's voice died away, Brienne found herself taking a deep breath and then exhaling slowly. The utter venom that Taena had spouted towards her husband seemed real and potent so much so that, if Brienne had listened to this recording the previous day, she might have concluded that perhaps Taena was trying to frame her husband for Senelle's death. Yet, today, it was Taena lying in the morgue, Jaime grieving, and Brienne wondering what the hell was going on.

One line of the interview had stuck out in particular: _well, if Orton really is the murderer, I'll be his next victim, won't I?_

Could Taena's cruel joke have been oddly prescient? Had Orton killed Senelle for her perceived disloyalty through her actions with the Brotherhood, and the Taena too when she threatened to go the papers about their affair?

Brienne thought there was now only one thing to do.

To go and talk to Orton himself.

* * *

Forty five minutes later, Brienne found herself sitting in the waiting room for Orton Merryweather's office in Lannisport, being stared at by a nice but dim receptionist.

"He won't keep you waiting long," said the girl over and over again, until Brienne thought it was starting to get quite irritating. "He's very busy. He's campaigning to be Mayor of Lannisport, you know?"

"I had heard," replied Brienne, a little tersely.

Eventually, a tall, well dressed black man in a beautiful suit appeared, smiling at Brienne coolly. "Inspector Lannister-Tarth?"

"Yes, that's me."

The man nodded, before extending his hand. "I am Jalabhar Xho, one of Mr Merryweather's assistants. If you would like to come with me, I can take you to see him now."

As Brienne followed Jalabhar through a series of winding corridors towards Orton's office, she could not help but notice how good the man's posture was, almost as if he were a dancer. Thinking of the shadow that had flitted across the wall in the CCTV footage from Lannis House, Brienne found herself wondering whether Orton may have sent one of his lackeys to do his dirty work for him. What better way to cast suspicion from yourself than stage a theft from your own property?

When Jalabhar and Brienne eventually arrived outside the door of Orton's office, the former held his hand up in order to stop her going any further. It didn't take a genius to understand why, because Orton was clearly busy shouting down the telephone.

"Yes, Constable Snow! I want something done about this! I came back from the hospital this morning where my wife had just died to discover that some scoundrel decided to try his luck and steal my speedboat from its private garage! I'm going to be the fucking Mayor of Lannisport and Casterly, so I expect you to find the _Golden Rose _as soon as possible, otherwise you will be hearing from my lawyers!"

As the sound of the phone slamming back down on the receiver rang through the space, Jalabhar Xho lifted his hand and knocked on the door. "Mr Merryweather, Inspector Lannister-Tarth is here to see you."

"Send her in," he barked.

Not wanting to anger his boss, Jalabhar lifted his hand to indicate that Brienne should go in alone, before turning and walking away from her down the corridor. Watching him go, Brienne could not help but think he was as graceful as a housecat, a little like her mysterious shadow.

Pushing the thought to the back of her mind, Brienne entered Orton's office and found him sitting at his desk, fixing her with a politician's smile. "Good day, Inspector Lannister-Tarth. How may I help you?"

Taking the seat opposite him, Brienne instantly got out her notebook. It always succeeded in putting potential suspects on edge and now, more than ever, she wanted Orton to realise that she meant business.

"Were you just talking to my colleague Constable Snow?" asked Brienne, her voice firm and authoritative, even though her question was casual.

Orton nodded. "I returned from the hospital this morning to discover my prized possession, my speedboat _The Golden Rose, _had been stolen. I wished to officially report it missing in the distant hope that you or your colleagues would do something about it."

Brienne gave him a tight smile. "That seems an unusual thing to worry about considering your wife died this morning. You don't strike me as that concerned."

Orton arranged his features into something approaching sadness. "Of course I am upset about the loss of my wife. She was my best friend... my soulmate..."

Brienne thought of her own best friend and soulmate. She could never imagine cheating on him in a million years, so it prompted her to say, "who you were cheating on with Senelle Jones?"

Orton's face blanched. He clearly thought that Brienne had not successfully identified the woman she had heard him rowing about with Taena. "I... I... I..."

"Don't try to deny it," said Brienne. "I have testimony from Senelle's best friend, Jocelyn Swyft, Thoros Myr, and your own wife to support that fact."

It was the mention of Thoros that made Orton's face transform from merely pale to sickly. "You've spoken to Thoros?"

"Yes," replied Brienne, not giving him a moment to think. "And he told me a very interesting story about you paying the Brotherhood to produce subliminal messaging on your behalf. I don't know much about the rules of elections, Mr Merryweather, but I am pretty sure the Electoral Commission would be very interested to hear that you are paying for illegal advertising."

Orton tried to recover himself, but there was still a tremor to his voice. "I will make a great mayor of Lannisport. The HS3 project will be good for the town, and for Casterly too!"

"But does the community really want a mayor who got there by lying and cheating?"

It was being accused of being a liar and a cheat that pushed Orton over the edge. "How dare you! You have no evidence other than the testimony of a Dragonfire-addicted druggie like Thoros."

Brienne gave him a wry smile. "It is interesting that you know about Mr Myr's drug of choice, Mr Merryweather. It would seem to me that you take a keen interest in his affairs.

"I do not!" objected Orton forcefully.

"Oh, I think you do. Besides the fact that it would be easy for the police to go through your bank accounts and establish a link between yourself and Mr Myr, I also have the testimonies of three members of the Brotherhood who attest you had meetings with him, as well as your own wife."

Orton opened and closed his mouth for a moment, struggling for words. "But... but... she's dead!"

"She is," conceded Brienne, "but in an interview she gave to my colleagues, she declared that if she ended up dead, you would be her murderer."

Brienne knew she had crossed a line at that, as suddenly Orton got to his feet, his beady eyes wide. "How _dare _you!" he spat. "My wife died _this morning _and you are here accusing me of murder!"

"No I am not," said Brienne truthfully, "I am merely repeating what she said in her interview. But I do have to add that I think there is a lot of suspicion hanging over your head, Orton. You are one of the few people in Casterly or Lannisport with the motive to kill both Senelle Jones and your wife."

"What motives would they be?" he spat defensively.

"Why," replied Brienne, as if it were obvious, "both your wife and your lover had information on you that could have brought down your campaign once and for all. You did it for ambition."

At her statement, Orton looked completely flabbergasted. "And you think I would murder Senelle and Taena for the sake of my political career?"

Brienne shrugged. "People have murdered for much less."

_For bad acting, _she thought. _For typos, ugly modern architecture, and for betraying the cause. In contrast to the NWA, your conspiracy would almost be rational._

As Brienne teetered closer and closer to an actual accusation, Orton's mood changed suddenly. Overcoming his shock, he stared at her with flashing, angry eyes. "Get out, Inspector. I may not be able to say I loved my wife, or Senelle, but I am definitely not cold blooded enough to kill. And without a murder weapon or some serious proof, you have nothing on me."

In that, Brienne knew he was telling the truth. At best, the case against Orton was circumstantial, and if she really wanted to discover the truth, she would have to get about trying to identify the owner of the mysterious shadow on the CCTV footage. Jalabhar Xho was one such suspect, but could there be others?

"You are right, I have nothing concrete on you at the moment," conceded Brienne. "But please be aware, Mr Merryweather, that I am keeping a very close eye on you."

"Do that," hissed Orton, sitting back in his seat. "But I assure you I am innocent and no smear campaign on your part will put an end to my ambitions to be Mayor of Lannisport."

Looking at the man sitting across the desk from her, Brienne concluded that he was entirely motivated by his love and lust for power. Surely, someone like him would easily be able to justify the deaths of two women for the sake of his career.

"I assure you, I am not trying to smear you," replied Brienne, closing her notebook and storing it away. "I am just trying to find out the truth."

As she turned to leave, Orton let out a mocking laugh. However, he did not speak until Brienne's hand was on the door handle. "Truth is merely what a man... or _woman..._wants to see. It's all about perception."

Leaving the room, Brienne took one last look at him.

She thought she sensed a conspiracy. She feared she saw a murderer.

* * *

Exhausted after her disagreement with Mr Merryweather, Brienne decided to go back to the station and do some more menial tasks she had been meaning to catch up on - particularly sending off the paperwork to request an autopsy for Taena Merryweather - before calling it a day. Once the rest of her colleagues came back from patrol, Robb Arryn cornered her and asked whether she wanted to come to _The Inn at the Crossroads._

"Come on," he said coaxingly, "a drink will do you good. The rest of us are all going."

Brienne shook her head. "I'm sorry Robb, I'm going to go home to my husband. I think he needs me tonight."

In fact, Brienne thought she also needed Jaime after the day she had had. Deciding there would be nothing better than curling up together in front of the TV with a glass of wine, on her way home Brienne stopped at _Lannisters _to pick up a bottle of Prosecco, a big bar of Cadbury's chocolate and the ingredients for spaghetti bolognaise, which was Jaime's comfort food of choice. Considering what had happened, Brienne felt he would need a bit of pampering, and looking after him would make her feel better too, so once she had paid for everything she hurried home as quickly as she could.

When she got back to their cottage, Brienne found Jaime lying on the sofa in his grungiest tracksuit, casually flicking between _Pointless _and _The Chase. _His eyes brightened the moment his wife came through the door and he sat up to look at her.

"Hey wench," he said, giving her a soft smile. "What have you got there?"

Walking towards him, she sat down next to him, kissed him firmly, and then said, "I have chocolate and wine and ingredients for spaghetti bolognaise. I thought we could just have a chill evening watching the TV. Does that sound a good plan?"

"Great," smiled Jaime, before giving her a kiss in return. "Do you want me to come and help you make dinner? I can chop some carrots very slowly if it would be helpful."

Laughing, Brienne replied, "of course you can if you want."

"I want to," he said. "I could do with a distraction."

As they cooked together, Jaime asked Brienne about her day, all the while avoiding the topic of Taena. She gladly went along with that plan, not really wanting to drag up her interview with the despicable Orton Merryweather, so instead focussed on dinner and making Jaime laugh. Putting the evidence together and catching a killer would have to be for another day.

After they had made their food, Brienne poured them both a glass of wine and put their plates on trays so they could eat in front of the TV. She carried Jaime's in first to be helpful, while he took her glass of wine, and soon they found themselves sat together slurping on spaghetti bolognaise. To make him laugh, Brienne decided to try and re-enact the famous pasta scene from _Lady and the Tramp, _but that only succeeded in starting a little kissing session that left their food cold. After they had eaten their dinner, Brienne tidied away the plates before opening the chocolate, and then said Jaime could have the pick of the films.

"_Die Hard_," he replied quickly. "Always _Die Hard_."

Although it wasn't the most romantic movie, Brienne agreed, because she knew Jaime would like it and she would find it endearing to listen to him quoting along with the shooting and fighting. Cuddling up to him, she pretended to be scared at the more violent bits, just to get him to hold her tighter.

"I know your game, wench," he purred.

"What?" she replied, a laugh hiding under her question.

"I once saw you ride into town on a white horse and shoot the place up. You're not afraid of Hans Gruber, you just want to cuddle me up."

Brienne shrugged. "Is that a crime?"

"No," he grinned, "I'm not stopping you."

They watched the rest of the film almost interrupted until Hans Gruber had taken Bruce Willis' wife hostage. Just as the story reached its climax in a shootout, Brienne heard a loud BANG, and it took her a few moments to realise it had not come from the screen but outside.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That bang?"

Jaime shrugged. "We're watching an action movie. It was probably a gunshot."

"No, I'm sure it was..."

BANG.

Jaime heard it that time too. Getting to their feet, the two of them walked in the direction of the noise, which seemed to be coming from their garden. Brienne tried to walk purposefully towards the back door, but Jaime stopped her.

"Let me just get my phone out. It's dark and windy out there. We could do with some light."

Once he had his torch on, the two of them went into their tiny garden, trying to work out where the noise had come from. It didn't take them long to put it together; the door of the shed was unlocked, causing it to bang open and closed with the wind.

Furrowing her brow, Brienne walked forward to inspect the bolt. "Have you been in the shed this evening Jaime?"

Jaime shook his head. "No. I've just been watching TV."

"How is this door unbolted then?"

Jaime looked at her blankly for a moment, before saying, "maybe the wind blew it open. It _is _a windy night."

"Not that windy though, surely?" replied Brienne sceptically. "It's a metal bolt."

Feeling a little suspicious, Brienne slipped inside the shed, wanting to check that everything was in place. Scanning the tiny wooden room quickly, she spotted the lawnmower, the garden chairs, the fridge freezer in which they kept thousands of chicken nuggets in case the Hound ever came to dinner, the rake and hoe, and the toolbox. Everything appeared untouched.

"Is everything still there?" asked Jaime.

"Yeah," said Brienne, exiting the shed and bolting it up behind her. "Maybe you were right. Maybe it was the wind."

"Maybe," agreed Jaime, before stretching his hand out for her to hold. "Now, come on, wench, I want to go and finish watching Bruce Willis kick some arse."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again for reading! I would love to hear what you think in a comment!
> 
> Next chapter... Brienne tries to piece together evidence from the case...


	15. The Difference Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne tries to piece the case together...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for coming back! I hope you enjoy this chapter! If you do, I would love to hear from you in a comment or with kudos!

After her interview with Orton Merryweather, Brienne became more determined than ever to discover if he truly was behind the deaths of Senelle and Taena. She thought the key to the whole case would be the identity of the mysterious shadow in the CCTV footage, so spent the whole of Wednesday morning looking into the most likely candidate - Jalabhar Xho's - background. From a preliminary search, she discovered he had previously worked for a florist called _Summer Isles _until Orton had poached him and given him a huge raise. She wondered whether there was something suspicious in that. Her research was interrupted, however, by a call from Reverend Meribald, saying he would like to get the SARC committee together in order to discuss honouring Taena's memory in some way. Brienne agreed it would be a nice thing to do, so promised to be at the church hall to discuss that issue the next day.

That evening exhausted after her long day of thinking, Brienne did the only thing that would truly make her feel better; she went home and had sex with Jaime, twice. They did it for two reasons; firstly, because Brienne could tell he needed a little affection and, secondly, even though they had been together three years and married for one, she still found him super-mega-foxy-awesome-hot (just as he did her) and the fire had not yet died down.

On Thursday morning, she told Jaime about Reverend Meribald's plans to honour Taena, so he asked whether he could come to the meeting too.

"Of course," she smiled, squeezing his hand. "I'm sure he'll like it if you want to be involved."

When they arrived at the church hall, most of the committee was there, bar Aurane Waters and Ron Connington, so Jaime and Brienne went over to the hatch where Pia was serving tea.

"Terrible about Taena isn't it?" she said as she stirred in a spoonful of sugar to Jaime's cup.

"Yes," Brienne agreed, trying to choose between a _Bourbon _and a _Custard Cream _from the plate of biscuits Pia had offered her. "Shocking."

By answering showing relative disinterest, Brienne had hoped to cut Pia's topic of conversation off. From Pia's tone, Brienne suspected that the barmaid wanted to discuss the deaths as if they were some kind of morbid spectacle out of a Penny Dreadful. As one look at Jaime had told Brienne that he would struggle with Taena's death being turned into gossip, she tried to steer Pia onto something else. However, Pia wasn't having any of it.

"It _is _shocking," she agreed, "especially after Senelle. You know, if I was a superstitious person, I would think that someone was trying to bump off all the members of this committee!"

Even as Jaime tried to tell Pia that was a preposterous idea, Brienne couldn't help but feel her heart starting to beat faster.

_That's something I haven't thought of._

From the moment Brienne had been part of SARC, Taena and Senelle had both been regular fixtures yet, she had thought they were members for different reasons; Taena because she wanted to play the socialite about town, Senelle because she wanted to turn over a new page.

_But maybe there was something deeper to it? _thought Brienne. _Maybe something connected to Orton._

Mulling on those thoughts, Brienne walked over to the table with Jaime, carrying both their cups of tea, while he muttered under his breath. "Why do they all speak so ill of the dead?"

Once they were sat down, Aurane Waters arrived, surprisingly sporting a fresh suntan. Marching across the room, he came and sat down in the chair next to Brienne, as if he expected she would like his presence. "Why haven't we started?" he asked, giving her an easy smile.

"We're still waiting for Ron Connington," Brienne answered distractedly, still trying to run with the idea that Pia had given her. "The meeting will begin when he arrives."

Not wanting to talk to Aurane, Brienne attempted to turn to Jaime who was sitting on her other side. She knew she could not spit ball ideas with him about Taena and Senelle's deaths given his mood, but at least it gave her an excuse not to talk to the slightly slimy Aurane. The businessman was not giving her the opportunity to turn away, however.

"Have you had a good weekend?" he asked.

"Fine," Brienne replied, not wanting to discuss the mystery with him. "How was yours?"

He gave her a winning smile. "Glorious. I drove to the beach and went sailing."

"Fascinating," she said dryly, not caring to talk about such frivolous things.

Aurane went to continue the conversation but, luckily for her, at that moment, Ron Connington arrived, and the meeting began. As the discussions began, Brienne tried to concentrate - Jaime was making really sweet suggestions about flower arrangements and donations to particular charities, after all - but she found it difficult. Had Senelle and Taena truly been killed for their involvement in a committee devoted to restoring St Alysanne's church roof?

_Perhaps it was something to do with donation that Orton made, _Brienne thought.

_Perhaps both Senelle and Taena knew his real motives for parting with the money._

_Perhaps it was blood money? Or maybe he was trying to launder it somehow._

It was a shame that only the dead knew the answer to these questions.

On Friday, the mystery still consumed most of Brienne's thoughts, so she worked on adding her new questions to her pinboard in the hope they would allow her to tease the enigma out. It was all going well until lunchtime when, suddenly, she found it difficult to concentrate because Robb and Margaery were having a very heated (and loud) discussion in the staff room.

"I don't care how many times you apologise, _Robb_," Margaery snapped. "That whole evening just proved to me how irresponsible you are. How can you be a father to this baby when you think that throwing a drunken house party will be the thing that convinces me that you are ready for this?"

Robb let out a huff of annoyance. "So, apparently, I am responsible enough for you to continue fucking, but not responsible enough to be involved in our child's life?"

"Robb!" Margaery thundered, "those are _very _different things! I am pregnant. My hormones are all over the place. One minute I'm hungry, the next I'm horny, then I'm angry, then I'm crying. That's why we _sometimes _still sleep together, and shagging requires a totally different skill set from being a father."

"I suppose they are completely dissimilar," concurred Robb, "but then you wonder why I keep getting mixed messages."

"That's your problem! If you were only to prove to me that you..."

Brienne had had enough. Their arguing and sniping had been going on for weeks and weeks, and neither seemed any closer to dealing with the issue at hand; that they were having a baby together. Seizing the initiative, Brienne went out into the staffroom to find Robb and Margaery still bickering in a corner. Melara was watching from the opposite corner, eating her pretentious little salad.

"Robb, Margaery, can I speak to you for a moment?"

The pair exchanged an uneasy look as Brienne beckoned them to follow her. As they left the room, Brienne felt Melara's burning gaze on the three of them like hot lava. It was clear she was sensing an opportunity but, given the state Robb and Margaery were in, Brienne tried to push her to the back of her mind. Once they were in her study, she made the most of the situation as Brienne sat at her desk while Robb and Margaery stood in front of her like naughty school children. She thought the implied power dynamic might make things easier.

"Look, you two really need to sort this out," Brienne said firmly. When Margaery tried to interrupt, Brienne continued over her. "Not just for yourselves, but for your _child. _Your kid doesn't want to come into the world with his or her parents fighting over their crib."

Brienne's mind was suddenly invaded by an image of Jaime leaning over a cot looking at a green-eyed baby that was undoubtedly _theirs. _Perhaps it would one day be possible, perhaps...

"I've told Margaery I want to be there for our kid," said Robb, interrupting Brienne's thoughts. "I offered to _marry _her, for god's sake, because it is the honourable thing to do. I _want _to do the right thing by her, and just because I have a party one time, she seems to think it entirely disqualifies me from being in this child's life, even as she continues to sleep with me."

Margaery went a little red at that statement, before trying to bat him back. "It's not that I don't think you should be part of this journey with me, it's just I wish you would take it more seriously. You've offered to take me to the cinema to keep my mood up, but you haven't volunteered any money towards material things this child will _need."_

"I can do that!" Robb said ardently. "You can all the money you want. Just tell me how to make this better and I'll do it!"

Robb's sincere desire to help her suddenly seemed to hit Margaery, as she then found she was lost for words. "Well, I... you..."

Knowing that this was going to need more than a quick chat in her office, Brienne made a suggestion. "Maybe it's time to talk to someone, someone who could help you through this."

"Like who?" asked Robb, his face blank.

Brienne couldn't help but smile at his innocence in all things emotional. "My old therapist just passed on the details of a couples counsellor to me."

Margaery narrowed her eyes. "Why do you want a couples counsellor? Are you and Jaime having problems?"

Brienne let out half a laugh. "All couples have _problems, _Margaery, from time to time."

Robb seemed to share Margaery's incredulity, so he added, "but you and Jaime seem so... lovey-dovey."

"Yes," conceded Brienne, "but Jaime would also forgive me in about ten seconds if I murdered someone, and I sometimes find it very difficult to explain to him what's going on in my head. So, we're going to talk to this counsellor to make sure we are both properly equipped to be the best partners we can for each other. Hopefully, this counsellor will give me tools to communicate with Jaime more clearly and allow Jaime to get better at saying when he feels I have taken advantage of him. There's no shame in talking to a professional, so, maybe, in light of everything that has gone on between you two, a chat with someone who knows about this kind of thing might be good."

To Brienne's surprise, while Margaery looked sceptical, Robb was intrigued.

"What's this counsellor's name?" he asked slowly, while Margaery gazed at him in shock.

"Robb!"

"What?" he replied, a little irritated. "I want to sort this out; for me, for you, and for our kid. If Brienne's couples' counsellor can do the trick, what's the harm?"

Encouraged, Brienne turned to her computer and searched her emails, looking for the correct one. "Her name is Doctor Val Rayder. She's based in Lannisport. I can send you a link to her website, if you want?"

"That sounds good to me," said Robb, before turning to his sort-of-girlfriend. "Margaery?"

Margaery spent a few seconds chewing on the thought, clearly struggling with the idea that she couldn't manage her own life. "Oh, alright then. We'll see if we can book one session with her and go from there."

"Excellent," smiled Brienne, "that hopefully means that I can continue my work in here while you two co-exist in silent peace and harmony in the staffroom."

Margaery crossed her arms across her chest in mock outrage. "You sneaky bitch."

"What can I say?" laughed Brienne. "I like my friends getting on _and _having a quiet workspace." Robb and Margaery both smiled at that, and it was the most relaxed that Brienne had ever seen them together... well, at least since Christmas. "Why don't you go and finish your lunch? I have some work to do."

"Yes Chief," said Robb, before gesturing to Margaery. "Come on Marg, let's go."

As the two of them walked out the office, the door swung wide open. When it did so, it revealed something interesting. Melara was no longer sitting over in the corner with her fancy salad, but on a chair close to the door. For a brief second, their eyes met and Melara gave Brienne an insincere smile.

When the door slammed shut, Brienne could not help but feel a chill work its way down her spine.

* * *

"Right!" declared the Hound the second he got back off patrol with Pod and Jaime at the end of the day. "Who wants to go to _The Inn at the Crossroads?"_

Jon, Robb Arryn, and Ilyn were all an instant yes. Margaery took a little coaxing, but eventually Robb Stark won her round. Jaime turned to Brienne. "Do you want to go, wench? Or we could go home and watch _Die Hard 2."_

Brienne smiled. "Although I love listening to you quote action films at length, I could really use a beer."

After she had given Robb and Margaery couple counselling, Brienne had had little to no luck on the case. She had watched the footage from Lannis House several more times hoping to find something vital, but found nothing, and did some more research into Jalabhar Xho which was totally fruitless. The only interesting things she had learnt were from a phone conversation with Reverend Meribald about what exactly he was going to use Orton Merryweather's money for. It all had something to do with flying buttresses and seemed perfectly legitimate and above board.

Sensing her weariness, Jaime slung his arm around her and gave her a quick kiss. "A beer for my wench it is, then."

Just at that moment, Melara cut into the conversation. "Well, if you are going to the pub, Jaime, I'll come as well. I've had a long day too."

Not taking his eyes off Brienne, Jaime said absently, "oh, have you? That's a shame." He then squeezed Brienne's shoulders. "Wench, do you want some food when we get there? I'm quite hungry."

"That might be nice."

For the whole walk from the station to the pub, Brienne tried to focus on Jaime's conversation - about a rugby game he wanted to go to, whether they would have time to watch _Die Hard 2 _over the weekend, if they needed to take Shadow the Cat to the vets - but it was very difficult. With every step she took, Brienne could feel Melara's eyes boring into her back, hot and angry. Brienne just snuggled up to Jaime in retaliation.

Once the team arrived at _The Inn, _Pia appeared, having just got off her shift.

"Ooh, do you mind if I come sit with you guys?" she asked, "or is this just a policeman thing?"

"Police _officer _thing," corrected Robb Arryn. "If you don't use correct terminology, our Chief will get very cross."

There was an affectionate laugh at that, which Brienne felt was some sort of armour against Melara, who was still staring daggers at her. Trying to build on her advantage, Brienne gestured for Jaime to sit in the chair next to the Hound and then took the space the other side. Melara was then totally cut off by Margaery, who came an occupied the free chair beside Brienne.

To Brienne's surprise, the first two hours of their time at _The Inn _was entirely cordial, even though Jaime did not let go of his wife the entire time. Melara kept shooting angry looks at them, but the whole thing was somewhat ameliorated by the presence of beer, chips, and the fact everyone was getting a bit drunk very, very fast.

Things only started going downhill when a slightly tipsy Pia started publicly discussing her relationship with Pod. "People have so many _opinions _about our relationship just because I am older than Pod. But like, if the shoes were on the other foot and I was a man and he the woman, no one would give a shit. I mean, look at Sandor and Sansa. They have a massive age gap, and no one ever comments on it."

"Yeah," conceded Robb Arryn, clearly preparing to rib the Hound. "But people _do _comment on the fact that it's a miracle someone who looks like the Hound managed to get someone who looks like Sansa."

"Robb," said the Hound warningly, taking a sip of his beer, "remember, beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

"Yeah, and some beholders are clearly blind."

The conversation then turned to whether it was truly possible for a relationship to last if the two parties were so diametrically opposed in their physical attractiveness. Robb Arryn thought they were always doomed to fail (although this may have had something to do with his poorly hidden crush on Sansa), whereas everyone else took the opposite view, Jaime most vehemently of all.

"It's not about what you or your partner looks like. It's about how that other person makes you feel. Do you feel at home with them? Is your life better by being with them? Are they your soulmate?" As he said his final word, he turned to look at Brienne, his eyes shining with love. It was impossible for her to resist kissing him.

Creating a drum roll with his hands on the table, Robb Stark laughed, "and the award for the most disgustingly sweet couple in Casterly goes to..."

"Awww, Robb don't be mean," interjected Margaery. "I think it's cute."

"And sickening," added the Hound, taking another sip of his beer.

"Do you believe in soulmates then, Jaime?" asked Brienne, feeling thoroughly squiggly inside. She wasn't sure whether it was love, or the three pints of beer she had drunk.

"Of course I believe in soulmates," he grinned, "and you are mine, wench."

"And you are mine, you ridiculously romantic softie," purred Brienne, before drawing him in for another kiss. As all their friends were either smiling or making jokes around them, Brienne felt like she was floating in a hot bath of support.

At least she did until Melara opened her big fat mouth.

"I believe in soulmates too," she began, almost as if she were trying to make herself in some way connected to Jaime. "It's just I don't think that a soulmate would ever put their partner in the position where he feels unable to say that he is being taken advantage of. They are not soulmates. That's just fake love wrapped up in a pretty bow."

Brienne stomach suddenly sank as she realised why she had felt so uncomfortable about Melara's expression outside her office earlier; her rival had been eavesdropping. Floundering for a few moments as she tried of think of something clever to say, Brienne found she was saved by Margaery, who jumped to her defence. It was just a shame it was a Margaery full of pregnancy hormones and high on orange juice.

"Eavesdropping at doors were we Melara?" she said, taking another sip of her drink. "We all know you have been trying to shag Jaime from day one, but this anti-Brienne campaign is really getting ridiculous."

Brienne was sure that the chilly silence that followed that statement could have been sense by alien satellites that were watching earth.

_What the fuck happened to Girl World? _she thought distantly, as Jaime shot Margaery an angry look.

"Margaery!" he squawked.

"What?" replied Margaery, clearly tired of this whole game. "You know it. I know it. Brienne knows it. Damn, the whole team knows it!"

"I didn't know it," interjected Robb Stark.

"Neither did I," added Pod.

"Nor me," said Jon.

Margaery rolled her eyes. "That's because you are all oblivious men who are taken in the second a woman flutters her eyelashes at you. But I see it. Melara has been gunning for Jaime from the second she arrived in Casterly and, to be honest, I just think it is a little bit pathetic that you resorted to eavesdropping on mine and Robb's therapy session just to get some dirt on Brienne."

Even though Melara had gone the colour of a tomato, she attempted to explain what she had been doing. "I wasn't eavesdropping. You were all talking very loud."

"Oh, so that's why you decided to bring it up this snippet in a conversation about soulmates then? This piece of accidental information you overhead? Come on, Melara. If we are all going to work together in the future, you are really going to have to give this up. Jaime and Brienne are in love. Accept it and move on."

For the first time since Margaery started attacking her, Melara seemed to get a hold of herself and begin to fight back. "It's not my fault that Brienne is jealous of me."

Up until that point, Brienne had been content to let Margaery do the bulk of the legwork, if only that it might lead to easy peace-making later. However, that was a step too far even for Brienne's good nature. "Jealous of you?" she said. "Why on earth would I be jealous of you?"

Melara fixed her with a self-satisfied little smile. "Because it is very clear that Jaime and I have a mutual sexual attraction, and it is only a matter of time before he does something about it."

It was at that moment that all the oblivious men of the Casterly Constabulary got a brief glimpse into Girl World. The Hound let out a gruff laugh. Ilyn's mouth dropped open. Jon looked as if he'd discovered the meaning of life. Robb Stark ran his fingers through his moustache in surprise. Brienne immediately went to respond for the pleasure of this new audience, but Jaime beat her to it.

"We _do not _have a mutual sexual attraction," he said firmly, looking at Melara coldly. "At most I respect you as a colleague, nothing more. I love my wench. I love Brienne. I am _married _to Brienne. That's how I intend to stay for the rest of my life."

"But..." Melara tried to interject.

"No!" replied Jaime, getting a little angry. "To be honest, I had respect for you until the moment Brienne told me what you said to her at Robb and Margaery's party. I think it was low, beneath you and pretty disgusting."

Melara's face started to go white. To try to give herself some status now it was all ebbing away, she took another sip of her beer and got to her feet. "But we _do _fancy each other, Jaime. We have since we were teenagers. Don't you remember that time in the cupboard in Casterly Rock? It was _magical!"_

Even as all their colleagues pulled shocked faces at the fact Jaime and Melara had once kissed, Jaime wasn't having any of it. Getting to his feet so he could properly look her in the eye, he let out a derisive snort. "Melara, we were seventeen and it was a game of truth or dare orchestrated by my crazy sister."

Melara's dark eyes went wide. "But it was seven minutes in _heaven, _Jaime. It was practically star-crossed."

As Jaime had drunk four pints since they had been at the pub, he had seemingly lost all inhibitions. Consequently, he had no qualms in loudly declaring, "from what I remember, you told me that I was really sexy and then asked me to bite you. I was really weirded out by the whole thing and that was why I did not take you up on your offer of doing it again but with less clothes."

It was only at that point that Brienne realised that it was not just the team that were watching but that the whole pub had gone really, really quiet. Everyone, from Masha Heddle to Syrio Forel, was watching this all unravel with deep interest.

As the tension began to build, Margaery decided to be deliberately antagonising. "Oh Melara, you only have to take one look at Jaime to realise he's the type of guy who likes to be bitten rather than bite. You were pissing up the wrong tree there."

"There is no wrong tree with Jaime and I!" shouted Melara, taking on the demeanour of a righteous religious preacher at Margaery's mockery. "I _know _we are meant to be, and he knows it too, deep down..."

Trying to implore Jaime to listen to her, Melara reached out for him, so Brienne leapt to her feet so she could slap her hands away from him in an instant, not caring that the whole of Casterly was watching. "Don't you dare touch him," Brienne growled. "I've told you before, but I'll tell you again because you seem to be a bit thick. Don't play this game with me. I once impaled Cersei Lannister on a tiny replica of her ancestral home for daring to try to control Jaime, I'm not afraid to do the exact same thing to you."

"Yeah," interjected Margaery loudly, getting to her feet beside Brienne in an effort to join the party. "And I'll bitchslap you to next Christmas, because I'm not having you upsetting my homegirl."

It suddenly dawned on the clueless men of the Constabularly that this was not some silly squabble, but that it could have major ramifications for the way the entire team operated in the future. Consequently, Pod got to his feet and tried to extend a hand of reconciliation to both sides. "Woah guys. Let's calm down. We're all a bit drunk and it sounds as if this has been blown out of proportion..."

"No it hasn't," said Brienne firmly, feeling the support of both Jaime and Margaery beside her. "From day one Melara has been trying to undermine me, all in the aim of splitting Jaime and I up. You know at one point she tried to make me believe that he was cheating on me with her?"

"As I said," spat Melara suddenly, attacking with the ferocity of a wounded animal who had been backed into a corner, "it's only a matter of time. Why would any man want an ugly bitch like you over me?"

That insult - _ugly bitch _\- would have once hurt Brienne to her very core but now, with Jaime having taken her hand, she felt it bounce off her. It didn't quite have the same effect on him, however. In all the time Brienne had known him, she had thought her husband had warm, caring eyes, yet the look he was now giving Melara was the temperature of a Russian tundra.

"What did you just call her?"

At his tone, the rest of the group sprung into action. The Hound, Jon, Pod, and Pia shuffled around Melara, clearly trying to keep her shielded from the pure, unadulterated rage that was now shining from Jaime's every pore. For a moment, Brienne was worried they were trying to take Melara's side, but by the angles they were standing at she could tell they were just making sure Jaime did not do something he would later regret.

"I called her an ugly bitch," snapped Melara, almost a shout, "because that's what she is. I can't understand for the life of me why spend your time fucking _that _when you've got something better right here."

"You're delusional," hissed Jaime, his voice ice. "Delusional and jealous, and I can't continue to work with you when you say such horrible things about and to my wench."

At the thought that she might be separated from him, Melara's tone changed and she extended her hands towards Jaime, almost as if she were pleading with him. "_I_ could be your wench, Jaime. I know I could..."

Brienne had expected Jaime to answer that point, but instead it was the Hound. "No you couldn't. She's been his wench from the moment they met. We all watched them fall in love. It was soppy, ridiculous, over-the-top and annoying, but we all saw it. There's no breaking them up, especially if you don't want to burn bridges with both your boss and the rest of the team. They are the Constabulary's annoying couple. They are like our mascot or something."

_Awww, _thought Brienne sentimentally, _I didn't know the Hound was so invested in mine and Jaime's love._

To her surprise, it turned out the rest of the team were invested too, as they were all giving Melara an identical, warning look. "If I were you," said Jon, "I'd think very carefully what you are going to say next, because if it is anything about breaking up Jaime and Brienne... it's probably going to cost you your job."

Melara snorted, her eyes wide and a little crazy looking. "I can't lose my job for telling the truth. Jaime can't see it now admittedly, but he will one day. As long as I am here, working as part of the team, I will be too tempting for him to resist."

Jaime shook his head. His anger was gone, now replaced by disbelief. His expression managed to calm the rage stirring inside Brienne, too.

"Then I think it's very clear what must happen," she said. "I will arrange for you to be transferred to a different precinct. Although you are a good officer Melara, the Casterly Constabulary is what it is because we work together as a team and we can't have someone who is trying to undermine that harmony."

If Melara was angry before, now she looked livid. "Who do you think you are? You can't just sack me because you're jealous of me!"

"I'm your boss," said Brienne mildly, "and I wouldn't be transferring you for that. It would be because you have upset several members of the team."

Perhaps it was Brienne's calm tone, or that Jaime was still holding her hand, but that last comment made Melara explode with long suppressed rage. "You ugly bitch! You utter tramp! You homewrecker! You..."

As Melara's insults became more and more wild, the Hound turned to face her and clamped a hand on her shoulder. "You've had too much to drink. For your own good, I am taking you home. Pod, Ilyn, would you care to assist?"

"No!" shouted Melara, "you can't just drag me home! I'm meant to be here with Jaime!"

However, it was too late. Pod and the Hound had taken one arm each and were trying to manhandle her from the building, all the while she continued to shout expletives at Brienne, Jaime, and the world.

_I'll start the paperwork for the transfer tomorrow, _Brienne told herself.

However, it seemed Melara had to have the last word. As the Hound and Pod dragged her to the door, she shouted, "remember what I said, Brienne! There's a fundamental difference between you and me! Never forget that!"

That was the last thing Melara Hetherspoon said before she was hauled through the door and into the night.

After the crazy madwoman had been dragged away, the whole room was still and silent, at least until Pia snuck out behind her with mumbled apologies because she wanted to go with Pod. Then, the whispers started, first from behind the bar and then from the punters at the pub. Now the drama was over, Margaery took the opportunity to sit back down and have a sip of her orange juice.

"Come on, Brienne," she said coaxingly, pointing to the empty chair beside Jaime. "Sit down. Don't let that bitch upset you."

Brienne stayed on her feet for a few more seconds until she felt Jaime tug at her hand, pulling her down to sit beside him. Once she did so, Brienne instantly felt the need to be close to him, so wrapped an arm around his chest and leant her head on his shoulder, taking in his familiar, comforting scent. In response, he brushed a light kiss onto her forehead, before starting to stroke her hair.

The eyes of all her remaining colleagues and half the pub were on them.

"Wench?"

"Yes?"

Jaime took a deep breath. "What's the difference?"

"Between what?"

Lowering his voice, almost as if he was about to say something blasphemous in a church, Jaime said, "what's the difference between you and Melara?"

Brienne's mind was cast back to that moment at Robb and Margaery's party when Melara had almost disarmed her with her accusations and lies. In the time since, Brienne had comforted herself that most of it was just an attempt to upset her. And yet, when she thought about it, there was one thing her rival had said that rang true, even now that Brienne was so confident in Jaime's love for her.

"The difference between Melara and I," replied Brienne, trying to keep the cold out of her tone, "is that I always play by the rules, whereas she is willing to cheat."

* * *

After the fight in the pub, Brienne felt disturbed by the strength of Melara's reaction, and she could tell that Jaime did too by how tightly he held her hand as they walked home. It seemed neither of them had the words to articulate what had just happened, so they remained in silence until they reached their front doorstep. Neither really knew what to say; they had never had such a blatant threat against their relationship before... well, not since the loony sister with a shotgun.

As Brienne put the key in the lock, Jaime finally broke the impasse. Putting his hand on her hip, he leant close and breathed sweet words into her ear. "It's only ever you, Brienne. Only you."

It was enough. They didn't need words once they were inside; just hands and lips, kisses and touches. Brienne helped Jaime with the buttons on her shirt and his flies, so before long she was naked, straddling him on the sofa, rolling her hips into his.

"It's at times like this I wish I had two hands," muttered Jaime, simultaneously trying to get his underwear off and touch her breasts.

"Slow down tiger," smiled Brienne, "let me help."

Even more than his words, the feeling of Jaime inside her made her feel connected to him, his rhythmic shallow thrusts repeated promises; _I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours._In that moment, Brienne knew that Melara would never truly succeed in parting them, even with cheating and lies, because the truth was that Brienne loved Jaime, and he loved her. One jealous woman could never change that. The pact was signed when Jaime came inside her, calling her name. Leaning down to kiss him through his orgasm, Brienne hoped that this time would be the time that, by some miracle, he put a child in her. They loved each other, surely it was only right that their love be given form. Once they were both weary and satiated, they went to clean up in the bathroom before heading to bed together. Neither bothered putting on any pyjamas; that evening, they both needed to feel close, her bare skin against his. Although she was confident of their love, Brienne found herself clinging to him tighter than usual.

"And it's only ever you, Jaime," she said, repeating his words from earlier. "Only you."

It was easy to fall asleep like that - entwined - as he was so warm and his arms so inviting. Even after he went first, Brienne did not let go. She kissed his temple and nuzzled into his hair, liking the smell and its silky softness. Wrapped up with him, she drifted away...

Brienne's eyes snapped open when her phone rang. It was still dark, too early to wake up, yet the sound made Jaime stir. After a few moments of blinking, he looked at her with bleary eyes. "What time is it?"

Rolling over, Brienne checked the clock by the side of her bed. "It's three in the morning."

"Who is going to be ringing at this time?" he asked, his tone halfway between bemused and worried.

With fear clutching at her chest, Brienne picked up her phone. "Hello?"

"Brienne? Brienne? Is that you?" came a panicked response.

"Yes, this is Brienne. Who is this?"

"It's me. Pia."

Brienne shot a shifty look at Jaime, who mouthed _who is it? _at her. To respond to both people at once, Brienne said, "hi Pia. What's the matter?"

On the other end of the line, Pia took a rattled breath that sounded dangerously close to a sob. "It's Pod. He's been rushed to hospital! He's had a fit."

All the colour drained from Brienne's face. "Pod?" she asked stupidly, "as in Podrick Payne?"

"Yes," replied Pia, descending into tears. "I'm here with him now. They're trying to pump his stomach but... oh... I don't know if I can be here alone. I know he would really appreciate it if some of his friends were here too, so that's why I called you. Would you mind...?"

"Of course," said Brienne, leaping out the bed and charging towards the wardrobe. "Jaime and I will be with you as soon as possible. We'll also call the rest of the team."

"Thank you," replied Pia, still obviously teary. "I don't know what's happening, so I would really appreciate the support."

"We'll be there, don't worry," promised Brienne, trying to ignore the knot of fear in her stomach.

"You can rely on us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!
> 
> I hope you liked that.
> 
> I would love to hear what you think of this story in a lovely comment!
> 
> Next chapter... Jaime and Brienne rush to the hospital to see Pod...


	16. During the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne rush to Pod's bedside...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for coming back! This is a BIIIG chapter, so I hope you enjoy it and would love to hear what you think in a comment!

When Jaime and Brienne arrived at Lannisport Hospital, they found Pia in the A&E waiting room, her face pale and streaked with tears. Although it was clear she had been crying, she broke into a relieved smile when she saw them.

"Oh, I'm so glad you are here," she said breathlessly. "I didn't think I could wait here all night alone. Not when..."

To try and stop Pia descending into another bout of tears, Brienne put one consoling hand on her shoulder and gave her a firm, reassuring look. "It's going to be okay, everyone else are on their way. How is Pod?"

Pia bit her lip nervously. "By the time I got him here, Pod was vomiting but... Doctor Ebrose told me that was a good thing. He took one look at Pod and said he thought it was tetrodotoxin poisoning, like Senelle and Taena, and, if he could pump Pod's stomach in time, he might be able to save his life."

Brienne was overcome by a tidal wave of relief as Jaime smiled. "That's good news," he said, expelling a great puff of breath as the tension left him.

Pia's eyes glistened with tears. "It_is, _but I still haven't heard from the doctor, so I don't know..."

"We'll stay with you," promised Brienne, "until the doctor comes back with good news."

The three of them remained in the waiting room for the next hour just listening to the sound of the ticking clock. Pia couldn't stop talking about Pod - how kind he was, how affectionate, how she had never had a boyfriend who looked out for her the way he did - while Jaime and Brienne sat and listened. As Pia soliloquised on Pod, Jaime held Brienne's hand, but only went to speak himself when Pia excused herself to go to the ladies.

"I can't imagine what she's going through," he said gently, as Pia rounded the corner. "If something similar happened to you, I don't know what I'd do with myself."

Brienne smiled. "You would be here in this waiting room, anticipating Doctor Ebrose to bring back good news."

Jaime grimaced, a moment of pessimism overtaking him. "But if it was bad news? I don't know if I could..."

She squeezed his fingers. "You'd carry on with your life. It's what I would want. I love you so much... I'd want you to be happy."

He gave her a sad smile. "Perhaps I would live, but I wouldn't be happy. You are my wench; without you I wouldn't make sense."

Tilting her head across so her cheek was resting against his, she said, "and I wouldn't make sense without you."

It was not long before Pia came back from the toilets, but Jaime and Brienne found they no longer had to listen to her nervous chatter alone, as just then Robb and Margaery arrived. Jon, the Hound and Sansa followed not long after. As Tyrion walked through the doors at about 5am, Doctor Ebrose returned to the waiting room, wearing an unreadable expression.

"Ms McDonald?" he asked, walking towards Pia. "You are the one who brought Mr Payne in, correct?"

Pia nodded. "I'm his girlfriend. How is he?" Doctor Ebrose looked suspiciously at the little group congregated around her, which caused Pia to add. "These are his friends. They'll want to know how he is. It is okay?"

Doctor Ebrose gave her a careful smile. "I'm pleased to say that I think we pumped Mr Payne's stomach in time and managed to avoid the state of paralysis. With a couple of days of careful monitoring, I am fairly confident in saying he should be right as rain."

The whole group let out a relieved sigh.

"Oh, thank god!" smiled Pia, tears overcoming her once again. "I was so scared that it would be the worst case!"

"Seemingly avoided in this scenario," replied Doctor Ebrose, his eyes warm, "although I do want to keep him under observation for now."

"Thank you!" Pia grinned. "Can I see him?

The doctor shook his head. "Not yet, although I will send someone down to collect you when I think Mr Payne is well enough for visitors."

Pia's smile was so brilliant it was almost blinding. "Thank you," she said again, her voice shaking. "Thank you so much."

Doctor Ebrose gave her a reassuring nod - which sent Pia slumping back into a chair - before quite unexpectedly turning to Brienne. "Inspector Lannister-Tarth, can I have a word?"

"Of course," replied Brienne. As Doctor Ebrose gestured to an small alcove on the other side of the room, Brienne gave Jaime's hand a quick squeeze and then walked across the room to join the doctor. Once they were there, Brienne said, "how can I help you?"

Doctor Ebrose's expression was firm. "You do realise that Mr Payne had tetrodotoxin poisoning?"

"I am aware," said Brienne warily. "Pia told me."

"That's the third case in less than a month," Doctor Ebrose said worriedly, clicking his tongue against his teeth.

"I know," replied Brienne, endeavouring not to betray her frustration at not having solved the case. "I am trying to find out what could be going on, but it is very difficult to identify a possible suspect."

_And it's even harder now, _Brienne thought. _What connects Pod to Senelle and Taena?_

"If you want," the doctor suggested gently, "I can let you in with Ms McDonald when Mr Payne is awake. Unlike poor Ms Jones and Mrs Merryweather, he may be able to tell you how he managed to consume deadly pufferfish." At that suggestion, Brienne's heart started beating faster. She had been looking forward to interviewing Pod the moment she heard he was getting better, but she had not anticipated it would be so soon. 

"Thank you Doctor Ebrose, that would be greatly appreciated. However, perhaps I will wait until Pia has had her moment with Pod? I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Fair enough," the doctor replied. "I will let you know when Mr Payne is ready to speak to you."

After a quick handshake, Doctor Ebrose left to deal with whatever the next life-saving emergency in his schedule was, leaving Brienne standing in the alcove looking back across at her friends. Pia was crying, while Jaime was offering her a consoling pat on the shoulder and a pack of tissues.

This time, she didn't even think about being jealous.

* * *

It took another two hours for Doctor Ebrose to return to the waiting room to let Pia know that she could go and see Pod, and another half an hour until Brienne was summoned. As Pia had sent everyone else home as soon as she was sent to see Pod, Jaime had looked at Brienne suspiciously when she told him she wanted to wait.

"Pod has survived his poisoning," she said. "If I interview him now, I can get a head start on whoever is doing this. Perhaps Pod has some idea how he came to consume deadly pufferfish; it could be a decisive lead in the case."

Before she left Jaime in the waiting room in favour of Pia and Pod, Brienne bought him a _Crunchie_from the vending machine and gave him a quick kiss. In return, he smiled at her easily and said, "go crack the case, wench."

"I will," she grinned in return.

Making her way up the stairs to Pod's room, Brienne tried not to run away with preconceived ideas, but it was very difficult. She was so sure this whole conspiracy had something to do with Orton Merryweather and whatever dodgy deals he was doing to become Mayor of Lannisport, that she was already trying to fit Pod into the bigger picture.

_How is Pod linked to Orton? _she asked herself. _Or Taena or Senelle?_

Once she reached Pod's room, Brienne pushed the door open and slipped inside. As expected, Pia was sitting on a chair next to his bed, holding his hand, and they were speaking in hushed voices. Although Pod looked very pale, Brienne thought he seemed surprisingly well for someone who had nearly died a few hours earlier.

As she entered the room, Pia gave her a confused look. "Brienne, what are you doing here?"

"Sorry to disturb you both," said Brienne gently, "but Doctor Ebrose told me it would be okay to come and have a chat with you both about what happened last night. I'm aware Pod is still recovering, but considering what happened to Senelle and Taena, his testimony might be significant to solving this string of tetrodotoxin poisonings. I can come back if it's not the right time..."

Pia sat up straight, undoubtedly about to send Brienne away, but Pod raised a hand. "Don't worry, Pia. I'm ready to talk. If this helps the case, it is vital I try and tell Brienne what happened while it is still fresh in my memory."

"Thank you, Pod," she said gratefully. "I am sure it will come as no surprise that I mainly want to ask you questions about what you ate last night."

"Fish and Chips," supplied Pia. "He ate with me."

Reaching into her pocket, Brienne brought out her notebook and pen. She turned to a fresh page and began to jot things down. "Can I ask you to start from the beginning?" she said. "I last saw you both at _The Inn at the Crossroads _at about nine o'clock. Can you fill me in on what happened after that?"

"Well," said Pod slowly, trying to remember after his traumatic night. "After the Hound and I dragged Melara from the pub, Melara started crying."

"Crying?" asked Brienne, surprised. "What was she crying about?"

"She asked us to let go of her because it was all some big misunderstanding," continued Pod, even as Pia and Brienne looked at him sceptically. "She said that ever since she had arrived in Casterly, Jaime had been really friendly to her and, considering what they were to each other when they were young, she had thought he was interested in her. She said that she could now see she was wrong."

Pia reached across the bed and took Pod's hand. "It was at this point I caught up with them," she interjected. "The Hound suggested that perhaps everyone had just got crossed wires and drunk too much, so then Pod said he thought it might be a good idea to go and get some food to calm everyone down."

"Right," replied Brienne, thinking that what and where they ate could be vital to cracking the case. "Where did you go to get food?"

"_Oh My Cod!" _said Pia, "the Chippie up by _Biscuits for All Occasions."_

"All four of you?" Brienne asked, trying to map out the scene.

"Yeah," nodded Pod. "Pia claimed she wasn't particularly hungry, but Melara said she would feel bad if she was left out, so we eventually persuaded her to come with."

"And what did you order?" asked Brienne.

Pod narrowed his eyes, trying to think. "I went for the saveloy with chips."

Brienne thought it would be difficult to hide pufferfish in a sausage, so decided to take a different tack. "And what did everyone else have?"

"Errr," began Pia, "I had the cod and chips, but I went for the cod without batter because there was a special deal on. It was quite a popular choice that evening."

"Ooooh!" interjected Pod, clearly suddenly remembering. "Melara had the cod without batter too, and I believe the Hound had..."

"Chicken nuggets," supplied Brienne, finishing Pod's sentence for him.

"Correct!" he smiled.

Seeing as there was nothing especially suspicious about any of those orders, Brienne decided to gather details on a different theme. "Were you the only customers in _Oh My Cod! _or were there others?"

"It was really busy," said Pia slowly, remembering the scene. "It was a Friday evening, so everyone was coming in for food after drinks."

"Did you recognise anyone?" asked Brienne. "Either behind the till or other customers?"

Pia thought about it for a moment, before coming up with an answer. "When we arrived and started queuing, Jorah Mormont was ordering the most massive portion of chips I have ever seen, but then that black guy came in - didn't he, Pod? - and pushed me and Aurane Waters out the way to get to the front of the queue."

"What black guy?" asked Brienne suspiciously.

Pia shook her head. "I don't know his name, but he came in saying he works for Orton Merryweather and that his boss was soon going to be the Mayor of Lannisport, so needed his order _now."_

_Mmm, interesting, _thought Brienne. _Jalabhar Xho was at Oh My Cod!_

"How did everyone in the shop take his behaviour?"

"Not well," conceded Pod. "Ron Connington was in there too, and he started swearing, saying he was effing starving and wanted an effing saveloy before he effing died of effing old age." Pod blushed even as he said _effing. _It was all kinds of adorable.

"So did the guy behind the counter take his order?"

"He did," nodded Pia slowly. "If I recall, he ordered a huge job lot of the batterless cod, because it was on deal. The only problem was it was that mute kid Wex Pyke on duty and he was all on his own. So while he took everyone's orders, everything got confused because he couldn't shout out what he had just wrapped up, so we were in there for about half an hour while everyone argued over whether they had been given what they ordered."

Intrigued by that snippet of information, Brienne asked, "but you got the correct food in the end?"

"I think so," mused Pod, "although Melara realised that she had been given a cod with batter, so went back into the shop to change it."

Noting that down, Brienne then turned to Pia. "How did you carry the food home? Was it safely wrapped up the whole time?"

"Yes," replied Pia. "Wex put it all in a massive bag for us that the Hound carried."

"Did you all go back to someone's house to eat?" she asked, even though she thought it was most likely that the pufferfish had been put in the bag back at _Oh My Cod!_

Pia shook her head. "No, we split up. The Hound and Melara walked with us back to Pod's, then we divvied up the food and said goodbye to them. We then went inside to eat."

Brienne took a moment to collect her thoughts. "And then you ate everything you ordered." While Pod nodded, Pia looked sceptical. "You didn't eat everything?"

"No," admitted Pia. "We'd wasted so long in the chippie that I wasn't hungry anymore, so I had a few chips and then told Pod he could eat mine."

Brienne's insides swooped at that statement. "And did you eat Pia's food, Pod?"

Pod nodded, although he looked a little sheepish. "I was hungry."

Slowly putting it together, Brienne managed to weave a web of connections in her mind. "And then soon after, I assume you begun to get ill."

"Yes," replied Pod sadly. "Pia went to have a shower and my lips started to feel weird. When she came down, she said I looked a little pale and, considering what had happened to Senelle and Taena, she decided to call an ambulance. It meant that Sam and Talisa could help me when they arrived. If it wasn't for Pia, I'd most probably be dead."

Pia gave him a heartfelt smile, then leant across to kiss his cheek. "I didn't want anything to happen to you sweet pea." In response to that nickname, Pod broke into such a dopey grin that Brienne thought that _Piod_(as they were popularly known) would soon also be in the running for Casterly's most irritating couple.

"Thank you for this," said Brienne, thinking she had gotten everything she needed. "This has been really helpful."

"Has it?" Pia asked. "I thought it was pretty clear that the tetrodotoxin must have been in whatever Pod ate."

"Yes, that's very true, but it's important to hammer down the details," replied Brienne mildly, not wanting to burden Pia with the suspicion that was slowly creeping up on her. "Thank you all the same."

Pod gave Brienne a weary smile that betrayed how weak he still felt. "No, thank you, Brienne. It's been a tough night, so I'm glad you want to find out who did this to me."

"Of course I do," she replied, smiling, "it's my duty as a police officer... as well as your friend."

That only made Pod grin ever harder.

With that, Pia patted Pod on the shoulder, before turning back to Brienne. "If that is all, perhaps we should give Pod some time to rest? Maybe if he sleeps, he might be well enough to come back to work on Monday."

Brienne shook her head. "Oh no, Pod. I don't want to rush you. Take as long as you need."

"Thanks Chief," he replied, smiling sincerely.

"Oh, it's the least I can do."

* * *

If Brienne had been interested in the case of the Casterly poisonings before the attack on Pod, now, after his interview, she was bloody obsessed.

On Saturday, she got up early, determined to crack the case. Jaime wasn't too happy about that; _we've had a late night, _he said, _stay in bed with me, I'm cold,_but she didn't listen. Knowing she wouldn't be able to rest at all with these spiralling thoughts running around her head, Brienne went to the kitchen and made herself some breakfast, which she ate while pouring over her notes. Looking at them again, Brienne came to the same conclusion as she had the night before; the intended target was likely not Pod which, in light of Brienne's grand conspiracy theory, made much more sense.

Pod had only consumed the pufferfish because he had eaten Pia's order and if the intended target was Pia, it made a little more sense. Like Senelle and Taena, she was a member of the SARC committee, which had connections to Orton Merryweather as he had made the large donation to the church roof fund.

However, looking over her notes, it was clear to Brienne that Pia was not the only option. Due to the cock ups with the orders by Wex Pyke, it was entirely possible that somebody else who had ordered batterless cod had been the intended target and it was only by sheer misfortune that the pufferfish had ended up in the Hound's bag. Brienne thought the switch likely happened during the confusion at the chippie; while Wex was scrambling around trying to get the correct batterless cod to the right person, the murderer had undoubtedly made a shifty substitution while everyone was arguing. Just as Melara had gone to return her mixed-up order, it was possible that Pia's particular portion had been meant for someone else.

That's why Brienne found it majorly infuriating that, besides Pia herself, there had been a further three members of SARC in the restaurant during the chaos; Jorah, Connington, and Aurane. If the aim was to target members of SARC, anyone of these men might have made a better target than the tea lady Pia. Therefore, Brienne decided the best thing to do was approach all three members of SARC on Monday morning to inquire whether they had ordered batterless cod; it would then at least be possible to narrow down the list of intended targets.

Besides the members of SARC, Brienne thought there was also the question of Jalabhar Xho's presence at _Oh My Cod! _If Orton really had intended to poison someone, the chaos at the restaurant on Friday afforded him the perfect opportunity, and it was likely that Jalabhar had been the one to make the switch. With everything slowly becoming clear in her mind, Brienne knew what had to be done so, on Sunday, she went about updating her pinboard and preparing the plan to share with her fellow officers on Monday.

_Step One: Interview Wex Pyke - did he plant the pufferfish?_

_Step Two: Interview Ron Connington, Jorah Mormont, and Aurane Waters about their order from Oh My Cod!_

_Step Three: Interview Jalabhar Xho about what work he does for Orton Merryweather._

Her thoughts were soon interrupted.

"Wench," came Jaime's voice, soothing and lilting. "It's late. We should think about going to bed. We've got work tomorrow."

Brienne looked at her watch in surprise. "What do you mean? It's only nine o'clock. I could work for hours yet."

Jaime knelt down beside her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "But you've got everything prepared for Monday! You've even drawn up a little itemised list of who will be interviewing who."

"I have," conceded Brienne, "but I want to make sure everything is perfect."

"Everything _is _perfect," insisted Jaime. "You've even colour coded your pinboard."

Brienne looked at him intensely, trying to make him understand. "Pod nearly _died, _Jaime. I have to do everything in my power to make sure the culprit is caught."

"You can't do any more tonight," he replied gently, nudging her cheek with his nose, "so why don't you come to bed?"

Brienne rolled her eyes. "But it's only nine o'clock. I don't want to go to sleep."

Jaime cocked an eyebrow at her. "Who said anything about sleeping?"

It took so very little on Jaime's part to draw Brienne into his games and that night was no different. After a few sweet, tender kisses on the floor next to her pinboard, Brienne eventually agreed to his wishes and let him take her to their bed. Once they were there, Jaime took his time, slowly divesting her of her clothing as he pressed open mouthed kisses across her burning skin; onto her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach. Jaime was going so slowly that, when he was teasing her by toying with the soft skin of her inner thighs, Brienne practically begged him to use his tongue, his fingers, _something _on her, because the aching emptiness between her legs was driving her mad. Obligingly, Jaime got into bed beside her so that they were on their sides facing each other, wearing a wry smile. Not waiting another moment, with a relieved moan, he slid inside her in one smooth stroke.

Given the angle, it was not the most passionate, hard fuck they had ever had, but Brienne felt so intensely close to him that it didn't matter. While he kept his stump on her thigh that was locked over his hip, Jaime brought his hand to her face and stroked the smooth skin of her cheeks as he kissed her. Brienne replied in kind. The climb was so slow, so gradual, that Brienne realised she would need to use her words to finally push Jaime over the edge and hoped she would tumble down with him.

"I love you, Jaime. So much."

At that simple truth, he came with a shudder, before falling asleep in her arms.

* * *

On Monday morning, Brienne and Jaime arrived early at the station in order to push the furniture in the staff room to the side. Once the space was clear, they laid Brienne's pinboard down in the middle so it would be easily accessible to everyone during the meeting. Then they just waited.

"Do you think they'll be persuaded that there is yet another criminal conspiracy at the heart of Casterly?" asked Jaime.

"I don't know," replied Brienne nervously, "but, after last time, they must at least be open to the idea."

Jon was the first to arrive.

"What's going on?" he asked, his expression bemused.

"A staff meeting," replied Brienne.

He was clearly supressing the urge to roll his eyes. "Another one?"

"Another one," confirmed Brienne. "If you don't mind, could I ask you to wait here until everyone arrives?"

After Jon, the other members of the Casterly Constabulary appeared in dribs and drabs over the next fifteen minutes. Margaery walked in and shrugged when she saw the pinboard, saying she needed some coffee before she got involved in this shit. The Hound had to use a box of treats to deter Joff from eating all Brienne's hard work, and Robb Stark just laughed. However, once they were all assembled, they took the matter more seriously as Brienne began to explain.

"Now everyone is here..."

"Everyone is _not _here," corrected the Hound. "Pod and Melara are both missing."

Brienne gave him a tight smile. "As you know, Pod is still recovering from Friday's ordeal. I told him to take off as much time as he needed. And Melara, well... after what happened at the pub, I think it is likely she does not wish to show her face and it is probably best she is transferred to another district. Does anyone disagree?"

There was a round of mumbled assents to the expulsion of their colleague. However, Margaery's voice rang out across the muttering as she asked an important question. "But she hasn't been transferred yet. Where is she now?"

"I don't know, but I think this is such a pressing issue that we can't wait to start." Putting on the air of the Chief Inspector, Brienne looked at her colleagues one at a time, trying to impress upon them the seriousness of the situation. "As you know, on Friday night, one of our own became the latest victim in the spate of tetrodotoxin poisonings that have haunted Casterly for the past few weeks. I have given it considerable thought and have come to the conclusion that we have a conspiracy on our hands."

"Oh," muttered Robb Arryn, "not again."

"Yes, _again,_" Brienne replied a little tersely. "Now, if you care to listen for five minutes, I will tell you what is going on."

Beginning with Senelle's account of the stolen pufferfish, Brienne conveyed to her colleagues everything she thought she knew about Orton Merryweather and his desire to cover up his underhanded attempts to get elected Mayor of Lannisport. She told them about the mysterious shadow on the CCTV footage (who she was convinced was Jalabhar Xho), the love triangle between Senelle, Orton, and Taena, and even Orton's complicated relationship with Thoros Myr and the Brotherhood.

"I concede I do not yet have the full picture," Brienne said, looking at each of her colleagues' curious expressions in turn. "Why Orton would target members of SARC is still very mysterious, because his donation seems all above board, but this is where we come in. I propose that we go and interview most of the people who were at _Oh My Cod! _on Friday night, and then see if we can trace the pufferfish back to Jalabhar Xho. Now, I thought we would start by interviewing Wex Pyke..."

Brienne did not get to finish her sentence, however, as at that moment, Melara Hetherspoon came walking into the staff room, her head held high, as if she ruled the entire world. A Queen's court followed her.

"Hey," began the Hound suspiciously, "why have you brought half of the Lannisport Constabulary into our station? This is _our _turf."

Ignoring the Hound's question entirely, Melara marched across the room, beckoning her new colleagues to follow, and only stopped when she was standing right in front of Brienne. In an instant, Casterly's Chief Inspector knew that the only appropriate emotion to feel in this situation was very, very concerned.

"Brienne Lannister-Tarth," said Melara, her eyes shining, "I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Senelle Jones on 25th February, Taena Merryweather on 8th March, and the attempted murder of Podrick Payne on 12th March 2022. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."

Melara was looking so pleased with herself that Brienne thought she should say something clever. Instead, she only managed one word.

"What?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... thoughts?
> 
> As ever, I love to hear what you think about my silly story, so comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. I am a little behind on replying to comments, but I promise I am reading them and appreciate every single one.
> 
> Next chapter... Melara attempts to arrest Brienne...


	17. In the Slammer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melara tries to arrest Brienne...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo.... I hope you enjoy this one (and that the case against Brienne makes sense). I had to think long and hard about it! For that reason, I would love to hear what you think in a comment; each one makes me a better writer.

A freezing silence pervaded the room as Brienne stared at Melara, not quite able to believe what she was hearing.

"What?"

"You heard me," said Melara serenely as she unclipped her handcuffs from her belt. "I am arresting you for the murders of Senelle and Taena, and the attempted murder of Pod. Anything you say could be used in evidence, yada yada yada."

Behind her, Brienne could sense her colleagues looking at one another in matching disbelief and shock. As she was feeling the exact same thing herself, she could barely find the words to respond, so just opened and closed her mouth like a gormless pufferfish. It took Margaery to break the silence.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said firmly. "You only have to talk to Brienne for two seconds to realise she would never be capable of murdering someone. This is all about your insane outbreak at the pub on Friday. You are trying to get back at Brienne. You have no evidence."

Melara gave Margaery a smile that would have almost looked sympathetic if Brienne didn't know better. "_Au contraire, _Margaery. I have plenty of evidence."

That assertion seemed to kick the rest of the team into life. "Which is?" grunted the Hound.

Melara began to pace up and down along an invisible line which separated the Casterly Constabulary from their Lannisport counterparts. "On Saturday, I had a visit from a concerned citizen who felt he desperately needed to tell me something."

"Who?" asked Brienne suspiciously, having no idea where Melara could be going with this.

"Aurane Waters," she replied, barely able to supress her glee. "He had heard about Pod and therefore felt compelled to share with me his suspicions about who could be behind these dreadful attacks."

"Why would Aurane Waters come to you?" spat Jaime, the venom in his tone palpable.

Melara's expression softened the second Jaime addressed her. "News travels fast. Just as Aurane had heard about Pod, it had also reached him about mine and Brienne's little _spat _at the pub on Friday. He therefore thought I would be the only police officer in Casterly sympathetic to what he had to say."

"And what did he have to say?" inquired Brienne, finally finding her voice.

"He told me that he holds the joint role of Treasurer for the St Alysanne Roof Committee with _you, _Brienne," she grinned, all teeth. "On Friday, Reverend Meribald asked him to give him an update on the contents of the account for the roof fund, so Aurane went to check with the bank. As it turned out, the bank account was empty."

Brienne started to go pale. How was it possible that £100,076.20 could just disappear? "What? But..."

Not listening to Brienne's objections, Melara continued. "Aurane told me he had been growing increasingly concerned that the mysterious murderer was targeting members of SARC, and he only became more convinced of this when he heard Pod had nearly died. Aurane had seen Pod and Pia at _Oh My Cod! _on Friday night, both looking as right as rain, so wondered whether the intended mark had actually been Pia, considering what had happened to Senelle and Taena."

Brienne couldn't fault Aurane's logic; it was the conclusion she had come to herself. Nevertheless, she tried to defend herself. "And what has any of this got to do with me?"

Melara flicked her hair off her shoulder. "As Aurane's fellow treasurer for the roof fund, you were the only other person with access to that bank account other than the Reverend himself."

"Still doesn't prove anything," said Jaime harshly. "It could just be an administration error or something."

Melara's eyes went impossibly warm as she looked at him. "That's what I thought at first. I didn't want to believe that Brienne had anything to do with this. However, I knew it was my duty to act on Aurane's suspicions so, using my connections with the police in Birmingham, I did some research. To my surprise, I discovered that ever since Orton donated £100,000 to the St Alysanne roof fund, somebody has been transferring money out of that account into a secret one situated in Panama. With a little bit of poking around, I found out that it was registered under the name of Brienne Lannister-Tarth."

There was a collective gasp from her colleagues.

"But that can't be right..." began Jon.

"Brienne wouldn't do something like this," said Robb Arryn.

"She's far too honourable to pull any crap like that," added the Hound.

"I bet this is _you _Melara," cried Margaery accusingly.

"I know Brienne," said Jaime firmly, stepping forward and taking his wife's hand. "There's no way she is capable of doing this. Somebody is trying to frame her!"

"That's what I wanted to think," replied Melara innocently, looking at him with her big dark eyes, "but then I realised that Brienne has a motive for stealing the money."

Jaime stared at Melara incredulously. "What the hell do you think that is?"

"Well," said Melara sweetly, "you told me yourself, Jaime, when we were on patrol. You and Brienne are trying for children and the NHS doctor was rude and unhelpful when he told you both that Brienne would be unable to conceive, and you wanted to find the money for a private doctor to help you. On top of that, IVF is very expensive, so £100,000 would go a long way to make her dreams of becoming a mother a reality."

As Jaime went bright red with guilt, Brienne gave his hand a squeeze. In that moment, she could understand if Jaime had needed to talk about their infertility issues to someone when, at the time, she herself had been cold and distant. Wanting to present a united front, the only thing Brienne could think of saying was the truth. "It's true I want to be a mother, and there's nothing more I desire in the entire world than giving Jaime a baby, but I wouldn't _steal _for it. And I don't quite understand why you think I would murder for it either."

Melara clinked the handcuffs together, the subtle sound reminding Brienne of the seriousness of the situation. "Oh, Brienne. Senelle, Taena, and Pia were all members of SARC. I have no doubt that you decided to kill them all off to cover your tracks."

Even as Brienne tried to put it together, it made little sense. "But why go for them first? Why not Reverend Meribald? Or Aurane?"

"I have no doubt you would have got to them eventually," said Melara. "And so does Aurane. He says you have always been quite cold towards him, and now he realises why. If you had succeeded in completing your plans, he would have been next on your list."

Brienne couldn't find the words. She was so completely blindsided by this that all she could hear was the roar of her blood in her ears. It took Jaime taking charge of the situation to bring herself back into the room.

"This is preposterous!" he cried, his tone verging on a shout. "The evidence against her is entirely circumstantial!" The rest of the Casterly Constabulary agreed with Jaime instantly, and the hubbub of objections grew so loud that Lannisport's Chief Inspector had to yell to be heard.

"Although I agree with you," he bellowed, "and it is a total surprise to me that Brienne would be capable of something like this, the seriousness of the crime means that I agree with Sergeant Hetherspoon that this evidence is enough to take her in. If Brienne is innocent, we will find out the truth."

"Yes," said Melara gently, taking advantage of the newly won quiet to step forward and try to touch Jaime. He flinched away. "All we want is the truth."

"But these are lies!" shouted Jaime, "nothing but lies! Why can't you see that, Melara? I know you don't like Brienne, but I promise you she would never do something like this."

"Oh Jaime," said Melara smoothly, as if she was full of pity for him. "It is admirable that you hold such loyalty towards a murderer, but..."

Jaime did not let Melara finish his sentence, as he stepped forward, pumping himself up to his full size as he bore down on her in pure rage. Perhaps it was the flicker of excitement that flashed through Melara's eyes, or the knowledge that Jaime going to prison for threatening a police officer would help no one, but whatever motivated her, Brienne pressed a flat palm to his chest, firm and sure, stopping him instantly.

"I'll come without a fight," announced Brienne, knowing she held enough faith in the law and her husband to make sure the truth would prevail.

Snapping his head round, Jaime's green eyes flashed in pain and shock. "No, Brienne! You can't! You can fight this..."

"And I will," Brienne promised him. "But now is not the time to make a stand. That is coming in the next few weeks."

Jaime shook his head furiously as the tears started to gather in his eyes. "I won't let them. I know you are innocent!"

Lifting her hands, she cupped his cheeks, hoping the feel of her tender touch would soothe him. Without caring that anyone else was watching, Brienne pressed a firm, loving kiss against his lips, hoping to convey everything she felt for him while simultaneously providing him comfort.

"I _am _innocent," she proclaimed, "but I also love you. It is better if I submit now and fight the battle tomorrow, because I know you'll be there by my side."

"All of us will," declared Margaery defiantly, staring at Melara as if she wanted to rip her apart.

The united nod of agreement she received from her colleagues swelled Brienne's heart so much that it allowed her to find the courage to let go of Jaime. Holding her head high, she turned back to the smirking Melara and held out her wrists, allowing her nemesis to put her in chains.

As Melara was locking them shut, Brienne gave her a determined look. "I will overcome this, Melara, whatever you think of me, because everyone knows I am innocent. And, god help me, I will damn well prove it!"

* * *

After her arrest, Brienne was imprisoned in Lannisport Jail, a squalid little holding pen for those awaiting trial. They shoved her in a bare, empty little room with only one tiny window that barely let in any light. Curling up under her threadbare blanket, Brienne tried not to cry.

_Why would Aurane say all those things about me? _Brienne thought, desperately trying to piece together the hidden shapes that were just beyond her reach. _And does it connect to Orton's plans for Casterly?_

As it got dark, Brienne chased sleep, but repeatedly felt it slip out of her fingers. As a young constable working in London, she had always believed that you could instantly tell whether someone was innocent or guilty of a crime because, on the first night they were imprisoned, the guilty would have a restless, tortured night. That night, she learnt she was wrong, as she tossed and turned with worry, only eventually finding rest by imagining Jaime's arms around her.

The day after her arrest, there were visiting hours for the prisoners. Unsurprisingly, Jaime was the first in the queue and came bowling into the little meeting room with his eyes wide and bright. The second he was close enough, Jaime tried to pull her in for a kiss, but the police officer in charge yelled "no touching", before crossing the room and forcing Jaime to sit down opposite Brienne, physically separating them. Even so, Brienne went and placed her hand flat on the table, trying to be as close to him as possible. As he mirrored her, their fingers were inches away from each other; it was almost a touch.

"Brienne," he rasped, his voice croaky. "How are you?"

"As well as you would expect," she smiled, trying to make him feel better. "I had a bad night sleep; I've only got a very thin blanket in my cell."

He scowled. "I'll talk to someone to get you something better. You deserve to be warm... you deserve to be home."

Hearing his tears threatening, Brienne gave him a reassuring smile. "And I will be, before long. The truth will prevail."

Jaime nodded. "Of course it will. Nobody could believe you are a murderer for a second."

He basically said the same thing again when he visited the following day, and the day after that. Indeed, he said it again and again in the month and a half until Brienne's case went to trial. They had hoped she would be allowed bail but, due to the severity of the crime of which she was accused, it was denied. Brienne thought this would have ground her down but, in truth, life in Lannisport Prison wasn't as bad as it could have been as either Jaime, Margaery, or her dad visited most days and tried to keep her spirits up.

"Tyrion's found a lawyer," said Jaime confidently. "His name is Josmyn Peckledon, and he'll do everything in his power to get you off. After explaining your case to him, he says it is very unclear who could _actually _be the murderer, and therefore it will work in your interest to fall back on your past record and stuff your defence with character witnesses. I'm not sure why someone would frame you for this, but Josmyn suggests that if we make it clear that you are not the kind of person to do this, we won't necessarily have to come up with alternate suspects."

Brienne nodded. "That sounds a good plan. After all, I wouldn't want to blame an innocent person for a crime they didn't commit just to get me off."

Reaching across the table, Jaime took her hand. "Sometimes, you are just too good for this world."

"What did I tell you?" came the voice of the police officer. "No touching!"

As she let go, Brienne tried not to cry at Jaime's heartbroken expression. "This isn't fair," he said, his voice catching. "You should be at home with me."

"I know, my love," she said gently. "I know."

At her tender tone, Jaime seemed to pull himself together. "That's why we are doing everything in our power to get you off. Josmyn is expensive, but I know we can make it work."

Even though Jaime's eyes were full of hope, Brienne knew how their finances were at the best of times, so she asked, "how are we able to afford it?" Although Jaime avoided the question, her dad provided the answer when he came to visit next.

"Oh, Jaime is doing everything in his power to raise the money," said Selwyn Tarth, a spark of pride in his voice as he did so. "I've taken some equity out on the house to give you a good base to work with, while all your colleagues and friends in Casterly are clubbing together for funds. Margaery is thinking about selling her house."

Brienne was greatly alarmed by that plan. "Tell her not to, not on my behalf! She has a baby on the way! I don't want people running themselves into the ground for me."

"Too late for that," chuckled Selwyn. "You clearly inspire such loyalty in your colleagues and friends. They are all determined to prove your innocence, even though their new Chief Inspector thinks it's a waste of time."

"Who is the new Chief Inspector?" Brienne asked, her eyes wide with worry. Although her dad did not know her name, when Margaery popped in for a visit two days later, she supplied the answer.

"Fucking Melara Hetherspoon of course," she said bitterly. "Central Office have treated her like a heroic whistleblower and, although we all objected, those incompetent morons made it clear they thought Melara was the best one to lead us while you were on trial. Fucking morons."

Brienne suddenly found it difficult to swallow as the image of Melara sitting in her office, in her chair polluted her mind. "She's _your _boss?" said Brienne slowly, barely able to compute. "She's _Jaime's _boss?"

Margaery nodded sadly. "She is but, don't worry, he's treating her with the disdain she deserves."

The thought of how frustrated Melara must be with that course of affairs cheered Brienne up for the first time in a week. Smiling, she asked, "and how _is _Jaime?" She knew full well that, every time he came to visit her, her husband was trying to appear stong and hide his worries on her behalf. "How is he coping?"

Margaery sighed, putting a protective hand over her stomach. "As best as can be expected, I think. The team and I try to keep him distracted as much as possible with police work and the pub, but you know how he is; he's always been totally single-minded when it comes to you."

Knowing that was nothing but the god's honest truth, Brienne tried to keep the worry out of her voice as she inquired, "he hasn't done anything stupid has he in his attempt to get me out?"

"Not unless you count him going to visit Tywin in prison and asking for his slice of the Lannister inheritance to pay for Josmyn. I'm surprised you couldn't hear the old goat's laughs from here."

Brienne felt a horrified twist in her stomach. Her husband was a proud man, and she knew it would have hurt him desperately to debase himself so thoroughly by going to his father and begging for money. It almost broke her heart that Jaime was willing to sink so low on her behalf. "Margaery," she said, her voice hoarse. "Please make him see sense. He has to look after himself. I don't want him to go totally mad trying to get me out of here."

Margaery looked at her sympathetically. "I promise I'll try, Brienne. But what can I say? You know as well as I that Jaime is devoted to you, and he won't rest until you are free and back home with him."

The extent of Jaime's devotion to her was revealed on the first day of her trial when he waited with her - hand in hand - for the big event to begin. It was the first time they were able to touch since the arrest, so Jaime was making the most of it, kissing her, hugging her, and trying to reassure her in the only way he knew how.

"I know they'll find you innocent, Brienne," he said, his belief palpable in his voice. "Josmyn's built a strong defence based on what a good person you are. The jury would have to be a bunch of idiots to believe anything else."

They kissed until the officer came to separate them, yet, even though they were apart, as the trial started, Brienne felt herself comforted by the echo of his kiss.

The trial lasted several days, presided over by a twitchy looking judge by the name of Ilyrio Mopatis. In his huge ceremonial wig, he looked like a crowned walrus, and Brienne would have laughed if the case wasn't so serious. The prosecutor also looked like he was a man firmly entrenched in the system; with his smart robes and sleek brown hair peeping out from under his wig, Lyn Corbray appeared utterly terrifying. In comparison, Josmyn Peckledon seemed thoroughly green.

Lyn Corbray began the trial by soliloquising on the deadly nature of tetrodotoxin and the fact it was found in unprepared pufferfish, supported by Doctor Gyldayn's report on the cause of Senelle's death. As his first witness, the prosecutor called up Wyman Manderly to detail the events of the night the pufferfish was stolen, using him to illustrate that there was a gap of several hours in which deadly fish was most probably stolen.

"I doubt it was Inspector Lannister-Tarth, though," said Wyman confusedly at the end of his questioning. "She tried to help recover the fish, after all."

"Trying to cover her tracks, I expect," Lyn pronounced, as Ilyrio Mopatis nodded along. "As we can see from the report she submitted on the incident, she got several key facts wrong."

_I remember that, _thought Brienne sadly. _I was jealous that Melara had gone to the pub with Jaime so made lots of mistakes. It could easily be read as trying to obscure my guilt._

Once the prosecutor had established the background to the theft, Lyn Corbray called up Lannisport's Chief Inspector, who gave details on the discovery his team had made a few days after Brienne's arrest. "We got a warrant to search the Lannister-Tarth property and, in a fridge freezer in their shed, we found several of the stolen pufferfish buried under a mountain of chicken nuggets."

That piece of evidence made Brienne's heart hammer. She thought back to the night that she and Jaime had been disturbed by the banging of their shed door. She wondered whether the real killer could have planted them then.

_But why on earth would they want to frame me?_

Beckoning to Josmyn Peckledon, Brienne made sure he was aware of her fears.

Once he had firmly established that the murder weapon had been found in her fridge freezer, Lyn Corbray span onto the issue of Brienne's supposed motive. He began by dismissing the need for alibis on the days that Senelle, Taena, and Pod had been attacked. "As we can see through the fact that the fish were stored in the freezer for so long, there is no need to think that Ms Lannister-Tarth had to be in the vicinity of the victims on the day the poisonings occurred. She could have planted the fish like deadly eggs and waited for them to hatch."

He then called up Melara as a witness for the night Pod was poisoned. To Brienne's surprise, her testimony aligned quite neatly with what she had heard from Pod and Pia and, like she herself had planned to, Lyn Corbray used the confusion at _Oh My Cod! _to suggest the intended target was in fact Pia, a member of SARC just like Senelle and Taena. Then, as Brienne expected, the prosecutor brought out his star witness. Once he took the stand, Aurane then proceeded to detail with dramatic flourish how he had discovered the money was missing from the account and how he approached Sergeant Hetherspoon to report the crime.

"I don't _want _to think Brienne is capable of this," he claimed, his pretty eyes wide. "But I don't see any other alternative. As was discovered, Brienne syphoned the money off to Panama for her own means. What these ends were, I don't know."

Lyn Corbray supplied an answer once Aurane had finished his statement as he brought out Doctor Marwyn to detail Brienne's infertility plight. To her horror, Brienne then had to endure images of her scarred womb splashed all over the courthouse, often put into comparison to Jaime's high sperm count. As the image loomed over her, Brienne felt physically sick as smug Melara Hetherspoon took to the stand once more and to retell her story about Jaime imparting his fears about their chances for a baby.

"As you can see," announced Lyn Corbray, turning to the jury. "It seems that Ms Lannister-Tarth was set on having a baby, and the only way to afford to pay for the IVF cycles was to steal from a church roof fund. To cover up her crime, she attempted to silence other committee members in the hope that her nefarious deeds would ever come to light. Using deadly pufferfish, which she stored in her shed, Brienne Lannister-Tarth succeeded in murdering Senelle Jones and Taena Merryweather, and only missed out on killing Pia McDonald due to a mix up at _Oh My Cod! _one fateful Friday night. Jurors, I put it to your conscience whether you believe such a person should be allowed to walk free."

After the prosecution finished their case, there was a day's break before the defence started. Jaime came to see her in Lannisport Jail, his eyes bright.

"I promise you, wench, Josmyn's case is watertight. I know it is."

"I hope so," Brienne said sadly.

The following morning, Josmyn Peckledon began to extol Brienne's good virtues. In the few meetings she had had with him, Brienne had told him about her own suspicions concerning Orton Merryweather, but the young lawyer had brushed them aside. "It is on the prosecution to prove someone is guilty, not us," he smiled. "We are better off proving you are not the kind of person to have done this."

Consequently, apart from the character references from everyone she knew, and Jaime's adamant declaration that the pufferfish could have been planted in their shed, the only piece of physical evidence the defence produced was the CCTV footage from Lannis House on the night the fish was stolen. The jury looked gripped as the video of the shadowy figure was projected before them.

"Does this look like Brienne Lannister-Tarth to you?" Josmyn asked them ardently. "Or someone else entirely?"

After the defence, the cross-examination began. As it turned out, Lyn Corbray was an expert at tearing witnesses apart. He even got to Margaery.

"It seems to me, Ms Tyrell, that you just admitted you kept your own pregnancy a secret from Ms Lannister-Tarth for fear of how she would react?"

"No!" Margaery said, her cheeks red with embarrassment. "Not like _that. _I didn't think she was going to turn around and kill me in a rage or anything, I just didn't want her to be sad. I know how desperate she is to give Jaime a baby; I didn't want to make her upset."

Lyn Corbray even used Brienne's own witnesses against her in trying to tear apart the CCTV footage as evidence for her innocence.

"Mr Lannister-Tarth," said the prosecutor casually. "On the night the pufferfish was stolen, you claim that you and Ms Lannister-Tarth were at home, is that correct?"

"Correct," replied Jaime stiffly, running his hands over his thighs.

"Can anyone else corroborate your alibi?" asked Lyn Corbray.

"I wouldn't imagine so," said Jaime, narrowing his eyes. "We were doing husband and wife things."

Lyn Corbray's mouth turned up in a smile. "And what are these husband and wife things, Mr Lannister-Tarth?"

Jaime went a little red. "If you must know, we were having sex."

There was a chuckle at that statement, which the prosecutor acknowledged with a wave of his hand. "It's interesting that only Ms Lannister-Tarth can corroborate _your _alibi on that night, all things considered."

"Why's that?" asked Jaime suspiciously.

The prosecutor smiled. "Because I propose the shadow in the CCTV footage is _you, _Mr Lannister-Tarth. If you don't mind me saying, like the mysterious figure you are well built, athletic, have good posture, and, as a police officer, you would have detailed knowledge on how to avoid security cameras."

Unfortunately, in his denials, Jaime only ended up sounding like Shaggy singing _Wasn't Me _in his attempt to cast off this aspersion.

The seed was planted.

The jury took a day to deliberate, and Jaime once again came to see her.

"I know they'll find you innocent. They _have _to. They'll have taken one listen to all our testimonies and come to the conclusion you would never do something like this."

Brienne did not even have the heart to say _I know, Jaime. I know._

Once the jury had made their decision, Brienne was brought back into the courtroom, her whole body shaking. Trying not to sweat, she waited with bated breath as the court clerk turned to the foreman of the jury.

"Do you, or do you not, find Brienne Lannister-Tarth guilty of the murder of Senelle Jones?"

The foreman cleared his throat. "Guilty."

"And of Taena Merryweather?"

"Guilty."

"And do you, or do you not, find Brienne Lannister-Tarth guilty of the attempted murder of Podrick Payne?"

"Guilty," proclaimed the foreman of the duty with such finality that the ground almost shook.

In three words, Brienne's whole world collapsed.

* * *

As, in the eyes of the law, Brienne Lannister-Tarth was now technically a serial killer, it was no great surprise that the judge decided she should be sent down for life with no chance of parole. Even though she had known what was coming, to hear it being said so emotionlessly - _life - _was such a shock that Brienne could not bring herself to react in any way beyond a blank stare. In spite of the fact she was lost to shock, Brienne still heard the heart-stricken cry coming from the gallery. It was undoubtedly Jaime.

After the judgement concluded, Brienne was given half an hour to say her goodbyes before she was taken to prison for the rest of her days. Consequently, she found herself crammed into a tiny room in the courthouse with all her friends and supporters; her dad, Margaery, Robb Stark, Robb Arryn, Jon, the Hound, Sansa, Tyrion, Shae, Joff, Ilyn, Podrick, Pia, Arya, Gendry and, of course, Jaime. The latter could barely stand up, and Brienne had to keep him on his feet by putting an arm around his waist and holding him close. While he was close to tears, the rest of the room was near incandescent.

"This is not right!" Arya spat. "I know it wasn't Thoros who killed Senelle and Taena, but I know it's definitely not _you _either."

"How could this have happened?" asked Sansa, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I'll tell you what happened," growled the Hound. "That Aurane Waters set her up and the went to Melara to stuff her head full of lies. That stupid bitch was so blinded by her hate she couldn't see the truth."

At the mention of Melara, Jaime started mumbling. "It's all my fault... all my fault."

Everyone looked at him incredulously. "What makes you say that, son?" asked Selwyn, his blue eyes filled with confusion.

"I should never have given Melara false hope," Jaime sniffed, a tear rolling down his cheek. "If I had made it clear that I wasn't interested from the beginning, she would have never hated Brienne so much, and would never have believed Aurane's lies."

Brienne pressed a kiss onto the top of his head. "The beginning was when you were seventeen years old, Jaime. There was nothing you could have done."

"That bitch always had it in for Brienne," groused Margaery, "we just weren't aware she would take it this far."

Shae looked around at them all, her expression firm. "Then what are we going to do about it?" she asked, worry lines appearing on her forehead.

Margaery's eyes lit up with promise. "I've got a plan. What we'll do is..."

At that point, the police officer on duty opened the door. Clearing his throat, he said, "the car to take Ms Lannister-Tarth to King's Landing Ladies Prison will be here shortly. You have five minutes."

_Shit, _thought Brienne. _This is not a nightmare. This is really it. I'm going to prison for life._

Everyone in the room started to exchange nervous looks, unsure of what to do next. Seeing their unease, Brienne decided to make things easier for them by giving her last order as Chief Inspector of the Casterly Constabulary, for old times' sake if nothing else.

"Thank you all so much for being here for me," she began, trying to keep her voice steady. "You have no idea how much it means to me to have you here, supporting me."

"Brienne..." said Margaery, trying to say something, but Brienne silenced her with a gesture.

When quiet fell once more, Brienne continued. "I thank you all from the bottom of my heart but, as these are my last moments as a free woman, I wondered whether you would all give me this time and permit me to spend them with my husband."

Everyone understood that desire in an instant, so soon Brienne found herself saying goodbye to her friends, colleagues, and dad with the heaviest of hearts.

"Don't worry pumpkin," said Selwyn Tarth, wrapping her in a final bear hug, "we'll get you out of here"

"We will," promised Tyrion. "We'll appeal. This is most unjust."

Saying goodbye to them all took a few minutes but, eventually it was just her and Jaime. Once the door closed behind her friends and family, Jaime did not waste a second and leapt on Brienne, kissing her in a way they hadn't been permitted since her arrest, with tongue, teeth, and unbridled passion. As Brienne stroked his face to comfort him, she could feel the hot tears on his cheeks and it almost broke her heart in two.

When he broke the kiss, Jaime looked at her with burning eyes. "I will do anything in my power to see you free," he promised her, as she felt his heart beating wildly in his chest. "_Anything. _You don't deserve this. You have only ever tried to do good and this is how you are rewarded? It is so unfair. I promise I won't rest until I find who did this to you and, if I have to, I'll kill them with my bare hands."

Brienne found herself hushing him with soft kisses and tender words. "Jaime," she breathed, failing to keep back the tears. "I love you so much. I don't want you to ruin your life over this."

"Brienne," he moaned, "I wouldn't be ruining my life, because what is my life without you?"

Even as her heart warmed as his love for her, she tried to give him peace. "It is entirely _yours_, Jaime, yours to do what you want with. I don't want you to waste every day of it attempting to dig me out of this hole."

He drew away from her, looking at her with a desperate expression. "Are you trying to break up with me?" he asked, his voice barely a horse croak.

"God no!" she exclaimed, wiping his tears away as she did so. "I just want you to try and find some happiness while I am in here. I _am _innocent, so I have to have faith that one day I will be freed, but until then, I want you to _live._"

"But wench..."

"I love you so much," she interrupted, "I couldn't bear for you to lock yourself in a prison of your own making on my behalf. Yes, try to get me free if you must, but first and foremost you must remember that you are _already _free. Live your life, I wouldn't want you to do anything else."

At that statement, Jaime dissolved into tears, and Brienne could do little more than hold him, kiss him, and tell him that she loved him with all her heart for the five minutes they had left. When the police officer returned, he found them embracing, kissing furiously.

"Time's up," he said firmly. "Your car is here."

Breaking away from her, Jaime fixed her with an ardent gaze. "I'll get you free, wench. You know I will."

"Of course I do," Brienne said, her eyes brimming with tears. "I trust you with my life, my love."

They only had time for one more kiss before they were pulled apart.

* * *

King's Landing Ladies Prison was a high security fortress reserved for the country's worst offenders up in the Pennines, so it was a long way from Jaime, Casterly, and home. The drive took six hours in total, and Brienne had to do it all sitting in the back seat of a heavily fortified armoured car, her hands in chains.

She tried not to think of Jaime. It only made her sad.

It was late afternoon by the time they reached the prison but, even so, Brienne was taken to see the Head Warden. He was quite displeased by this turn of events, given that she had disturbed his dinner, but he gave her a bright smile when he saw who she was.

"Ah," he grinned. "Brienne Lannister-Tarth. Police officer turned serial killer. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Are you?" asked Brienne suspiciously, trying not to let her distain for the bug-eyed warden come across in her voice.

"Of course," he smiled, giving her a creepy grin. "I am Head Warden Mord. I like _interesting _cases like yours. Come, let's go get you processed."

It took a few hours to complete the paperwork that would permanently incarcerate Brienne in King's Landing prison as she had never previously had a criminal record, and so was a blank sheet. After the boxes were ticked on the forms, Brienne was shoved into a bare little cell where she was given her orange overalls that would permanently mark her out as a prisoner. She let out a bitter laugh when she saw her prison number.

_Ha, _she thought darkly. _24601._

Once she was changed, Head Warden Mord returned to escort her to her cell. In spite of her obvious state of sadness, he insisted on taking her on a tour of the prison first, pointing out the kitchen, the canteen, the bathrooms, and the exercise yard. Brienne barely listened; she just wanted to curl up and sleep.

Eventually, they reached the endpoint of the tour.

"This is your cell," announced Head Warden Mord, flinging the door open and chucking Brienne inside. "I hope you get on with your new cellmate."

Departing with a malicious grin, Mord locked the door behind her and padded off down the corridor, leaving Brienne entirely alone with the woman she was to be imprisoned with. Turning around, Brienne instantly spotted her new roommate curled up in a ball on one of the beds. At the sound of the door slamming, she looked up, blinking.

Brienne's heart sank when she recognised her.

"Well, well, well," said her new cellmate, a smile stretching across her impossibly pretty face. "Look who it is. What is the honourable Sergeant Brienne Tarth doing in a place like King's Landing Ladies Prison?"

Brienne sighed. If one thing could make her life any worse than it already was, this was it; that familiar, haunting pair of green eyes.

"Hello Cersei."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soz guys... I couldn't resist! I've missed her too much!
> 
> As ever, I love to hear from you, so please consider leaving a lovely comment!
> 
> Next chapter... Brienne has to reconcile herself to a life in a cell with Cersei Lannister...


	18. Cellmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne has to reconcile herself with having Cersei as a cellmate...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for coming back! Now... after the madness of the last few chapters, this one is a little more chill. I hope you enjoy it; if you did, I'd love to hear from you in a comment!

As Cersei sat up on the bed, her green eyes glittered, and for a transient second Brienne saw Jaime. "You haven't answered my question," Cersei smirked. "What are you doing here in prison?"

Although they were stuck together in a tiny cell, Brienne did not want to answer Cersei bloody Lannister's question, so she threw herself down on the unoccupied bed and closed her eyes. "I don't want to talk," she groaned. "And especially not to you."

"What's wrong with me?" Cersei asked in a teasing sing-song voice. "I'd thought of all the people in all the prisons, I'm the person you would want to be your cellmate most in the whole world."

Brienne turned her head to look at her. Cersei was now sitting crossed-legged on her bed, like some impish demon, giving her a slightly manic smile. "Why the hell would I want _you _as a cellmate?" asked Brienne.

Cersei grinned teasingly. "I don't know... maybe it's because I have his eyes."

Not wanting to think of Jaime, Brienne rolled over, so she didn't have to look at her abominable sister-in-law. "No you don't."

"What?"

"Have his eyes," Brienne finished. "His eyes are warm and kind. Yours are just... green."

"Like his," smirked Cersei.

"Shut up," hissed Brienne. "I don't want you to be my cellmate. I don't want to talk to you. I just want to go to sleep."

"Fine," shrugged Cersei. "I've had a long day too. I'm sleepy."

She then heard Cersei rustling about to get under her covers, so Brienne closed her eyes once more, but then opened them quickly thirty seconds later. "Wait a second."

"What?" replied Cersei.

"Are you going to try and kill me in my sleep?"

Cersei laughed at that, and Brienne was surprised to find it was not cold and bitter. Her mad sister-in-law was genuinely amused. "Why would you think that?"

"Errr... I don't know. Maybe because the last time I saw you, you turned up at mine and Jaime's wedding and shot him in the shoulder in an attempt to get at me."

Cersei laughed again. "Oh... you're funny..."

"I'm not making a joke," said Brienne bemusedly. "I need to know. Are you going to try and kill me? Because if so... I might have to get you first, and we both know how out last fight went down."

Cersei's fingers danced across her chin, just at the point where the mini statue of Lann the Clever had burst through. "Oh, don't worry PC Plod," she said wearily. "I've got much bigger fish to fry in here than you."

"Have you?" asked Brienne curiously, trying not to make a poor joke about pufferfish. "What fish would they be?"

Curling up under her blanket, Cersei smiled. "That's for me to know and you to find out. Night!"

And with that, Cersei closed her eyes and, strangely, for a moment, Brienne felt like something had been taken away from her. Then she remembered it was a pair of lovely green eyes.

_Goodnight Jaime, _she thought distantly. _I hope you sleep well._

* * *

That night, Brienne dreamt about her husband. He was lying on a bed - _their _bed, at home - perfectly naked; beautiful and wonderful and golden. Touching himself in long, languid strokes, Jaime looked at her, his eyes full of desire.

"Brienne," he moaned, his voice a thin whine, "fuck me, please. I miss you so much."

She obliged him instantly, her throat dry with want even as she could feel the wetness between her legs. Moving forward, Brienne kissed Jaime furiously, running her fingers through his silky hair, causing him to let out a shuddering, animalistic groan as she did so. Pulling away, she looked into his lovely green eyes - so unlike Cersei's - and then reached down for his cock, watching as the pleasure rippled across his features.

"My love," she whispered, "Jaime."

When he shifted their weight so he was on top, he murmured, "will you let me?"

"Yes, Jaime. Always."

He slid inside her in one easy thrust and Brienne felt like she was home; warm and safe. She wrapped her arms around him, wanting him close as possible as he pushed inside her, hard and strong and entirely him. The pace grew faster, more frantic, as they had not done this for months, and she could hear their thighs slapping together in their crazy need for each other.

"Oh, Jaime..."

"Jaime..."

"Jaime..."

When Brienne opened her eyes, the morning light streaming in through the window, she found Cersei perched on the end of her bed wearing a smirking Lannister grin. "Dreaming about my brother, PC Plod? You've been moaning his name for the last half an hour."

Even as she went bright red, Brienne tried to deny it. "No."

"Having sex dreams about another Jaime then, are you?"

Brienne scowled at her. "Shut up."

"No," laughed Cersei. "I've got to have my fun in here somehow."

"Go play _Scrabble _then," growled Brienne. "The Head Warden told me there were board games in the Rec Room."

"Nah, I'm alright. The warden will be around to let us go and use the showers in a minute." Cersei grinned, clearly set on mocking her new cellmate. "Maybe, in lieu of my brother being here, you can get acquainted with the detachable shower head."

Brienne walked in icy silence to the shower block with Cersei, not wanting to make peace with such a despicable person, while the latter rambled on and on about every tiny thought that crossed her mind. In that way, she was a little like Jaime. "The shampoo they provide in here is basic, but it has done _wonders _for my hair. My mane is so much bouncier than when I used the expensive stuff I used to buy at home."

The bathroom was like something out of one of Brienne's nightmares; there was no privacy, just a wall separating the communal showers from the area with the sinks. Brienne blanched the second she saw it, whereas Cersei seemed entirely nonplussed and began to take off her clothes. At the sight of her sister-in-law stripping off, Brienne's horror clearly showed on her face, and, as Cersei was a naturally sympathetic person, she laughed her head off.

"Come on Plod. We're all girls together in here!"

Naked in a second, Cersei went straight into the showers and started singing the most out of tune ditty Brienne had ever heard. "And who are you the proud lord said..." Knowing she had little choice, Brienne followed behind her, trying not to feel like a hulking troll beside a pretty princess. To her surprise, however, Cersei did not make any disparaging comments about how she looked, but just continued to sing.

_Maybe prison has reformed her, _Brienne thought. _Or maybe it's driven her totally bananas._

Once they were out the shower and wrapped in towels, Cersei continued to chat as if they were old friends, which Brienne found very disconcerting. "So, how's my brother?"

"Which one?" answered Brienne.

"You know, the stupidest Lannister, not the dwarf," Cersei sniggered, as if the answer should be obvious. "The one you shag regularly... or I take it you shag regularly."

"Jaime is not stupid," said Brienne, trying to keep her temper. "Why do you always have to put him down?"

Cersei rolled her eyes. "Oh, get off your high horse. I'm just trying to ask how he is."

Thinking of Jaime was quite tough for Brienne, considering that they had only very recently been cruelly separated, so, in an attempt to not show Cersei how upset she was, Brienne went to change back into her overalls. "He's fine. Well... as fine as he can be."

"What?" asked Cersei, copying her new cellmate and getting dressed. "With you in here you mean?"

Brienne bit her lip. "Yeah." She really didn't want to talk about the events that led to her imprisonment with the crazy blonde lady.

Once they were both back in clothes, Cersei fixed her with an intrigued expression. "What are you even in here for? This is a high security prison. It must be something really bad."

Even though she wanted to tell Cersei that she was framed and therefore was nothing like her despicable sister-in-law or any other inmate in King's Landing, Brienne found herself stammering. "I... I... I..."

"Woah Lannister," came a new voice, saving Brienne's bacon. "What are you doing in here? This is a Dragon bathroom."

Cersei's green eyes suddenly grew dangerously bright as she looked at the two women who had just sauntered into the room, towels in their hands. She gave them a poisonous smile. "Hello Irri, Jhiqui. Have you met my new friend?"

Brienne turned to look at the two newcomers. Both were short, even shorter than Cersei, but they both seemed tough and sturdy, like they could win a fight if they wanted to. Covered in matching gangland tattoos, they looked as if they could pack a punch; Brienne knew in an instant to be on her guard.

"No, who is this?" replied the one on the left, who had a tear tattoo just under her left eye.

"Brienne, this is Irri," said Cersei, pointing to the woman who had spoken, as if they were all at some polite tea party and not in the shower block of a high security ladies prison. "And this is Jhiqui. They're both Daenerys Targaryen's little bitches."

"Daenerys Targaryen?" gulped Brienne, suddenly quite nervous. "Daenerys Targaryen is in this prison?"

Ignoring Cersei's obvious attempt at provocation, Jhiqui turned to Brienne, answering with a grimace. "Of course she is. She's the boss. The Mother of Dragons. You don't last five minutes in here if you cross her."

"But here I am," smiled Cersei sweetly, flicking her wet hair as she did so, "alive and well in a Dragon bathroom... or maybe it is a Lion bathroom now."

"I'd shut your fucking mouth if I were you, Lannister," said Irri. "Don't claim things that don't belong to you, or Daenerys will hear about this."

"Let her," snorted Cersei. "Brienne's my new Pitbull. She'll flatten her in seconds!"

_No I won't, _thought Brienne nervously. When she was a young officer in London, one of Brienne's first big successes had been catching Daenerys, a notorious drug baroness, and throwing her behind bars. Being locked in here with her was almost too big a horror to comprehend, especially after the Cersei bombshell. Now was not the time to dwell on Daenerys Targaryen, however, but the two women who stood in front of her wearing aggressive expressions. At Cersei's statement, Irri and Jhiqui had both gazed up at Brienne, clearly weighing her up and working out whether they could take her on. For once, Brienne was immensely happy she was strong and powerful looking, as Irri and Jhiqui quickly decided it would be a fruitless endeavour to try and pummel her in a bathroom, and instead just both snarled at Cersei.

"We'll remember this _Lannister,_" spat Irri. "And so will Daenerys."

"Oh no!" cried Cersei in mock fear. "I'm _so _scared."

"You will be when Daenerys gets hold of you," growled Jhiqui, before turning her back. "Come on Irri, let's go."

As the two women left the bathroom, Cersei called out, "toodle-loo ladies! It's been so nice chatting to you!"

"Cersei," hissed Brienne, the second they were gone. "Why did you say that to them? I'm not your Pitbull. I'm not going to fight for you, and especially not Daenerys Targaryen of all people."

Cersei just smiled at her pityingly, as if she was a very stupid child. "The first rule of life in King's Landing Ladies Prison, Brienne, is that there are two teams. The Lions, led by _moi, _and the Dragons, led by Daenerys fucking Targaryen. You have a choice; you are with her, or you are with me, and one day, one of us will be queen of this entire shitshow. If you want to be on the winning side, I recommend you pick me... otherwise I might slit your throat while you're asleep."

Brienne thought her sister-in-law might be joking - she had a quirky sense of humour after all - so she gave her a sullen look. "What if I don't want to be on either side?"

The laugh that followed that question was one of genuine amusement. "Then you'll be dead in ten minutes. If you play the game, you win or you die. Make your choice. It's her or me."

* * *

In spite of the fact that she thought what Cersei had said in the bathroom was intended to scare her, over the next few days Brienne learnt that it was nothing but god's honest truth. The prison was divided firmly into two camps - the Dragons and the Lions - and Daenerys and Cersei were battling it out to be Queen of King's Landing. Whether she liked it or not, it seemed that Brienne was in Cersei's orbit, because on her second day in jail, she had been eating her delicious plate of slop in the canteen with her sister-in-law, when Daenerys Targaryen walked past with the three most terrifying looking women Brienne had ever seen. All of three them were tall and broad, bigger than most men, and covered in tattoos that look liked scales.

"You're lucky, Constable Tarth," Daenerys growled as she walked past, her violet eyes ablaze, "if you weren't already under Cersei's protection, I would have fed you to Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal by now. I've not forgotten it was _you _who put me in here, and I will answer injustice with injustice."

Cersei rolled her eyes. "Please give it a rest, Daenerys. We don't have time for your Girl Power quotes now. Brienne and I are just here trying to eat our delicious plates of... what is this, Brienne?"

"Cat sick."

"We're just here trying to eat our delicious plates of cat sick. So, if you don't mind, we would like to lunch in peace."

Daenerys fixed Cersei with a furious look. "I've told you before. I'll take what's mine with..."

"Fire and blood, yes I know," Cersei moaned. "Problem is, you haven't worked out how to smuggle a flamethrower in here, have you?"

Daenerys gave them both one more thunderous look, which Brienne thought would be enough to make more timorous women cry. "I'm watching you... _both _of you," she hissed, before stalking over to serving hatch, where she was served her very own plate of cat sick.

Brienne had been too nervous to ask who exactly Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal were during Daenerys' tongue lashing, but Cersei filled her in once they were back in their cell that evening getting ready for bed. "Oh, they were those scary looking bitches following her. Rumour has it that, in the real world, they ate someone." Cersei spoke as if casual cannibalism was no biggie, but Brienne felt sick to her stomach.

"Are there any sane people in here?" Brienne asked, trying to make sense of the small hell she found herself in. "Or is this a madhouse?"

"A madhouse," grinned Cersei, "and the lunatics are one step away from taking over the asylum."

Brienne sighed. She did not know what she had expected to find life in prison was like, but it was not being trapped between a rock and a hard place from her old life; Cersei and Daenerys. Even though both women were equally terrifying, she thought it would be more sensible to throw her lot in with the former; better the devil you know, and all that. And, anyway, Cersei was right. In the correct light, her eyes did look like Jaime's.

"Great," mumbled Brienne, "bloody great."

Cersei tutted. "I don't know what _you _are complaining about. As I said earlier, if you are in here with the rest of us loons, you must have done something really bad."

"No I haven't," said Brienne sullenly. "I was framed."

Cersei grinned at her broadly. "Ooooh. Drama. What have you supposedly done?"

Brienne sighed. "Murdered two people and attempted to murder a third."

Cersei scoffed when she heard that. "Were the jury on drugs when they heard the case? Nobody could believe you are a murderer, you're far too noble for that kind of skulduggery. Look at your major over-the-top reaction you had when you found out what the NWA were doing."

Brienne looked at Cersei incredulously. "I don't think trying to arrest a group of murderers is a particularly over-the-top reaction, actually."

"My point still stands," Cersei insisted. "Nobody could believe you were a murderer for a second."

"I know," agreed Brienne, surprised Cersei was being so magnanimous. "Someone set me up."

Cersei looked at her interestedly. "Don't you know who it was?"

"Not really," replied Brienne, trying to keep her voice level. "All I know is that Aurane Waters had a suspicion about me, and then Melara Hetherspoon chased the case until the end and made sure I ended up in here. She hates my guts after all."

To Brienne's surprise, at that statement, Cersei started laughing - proper throwing her head back hysterical type laughter - and it made Brienne see red.

"What are you laughing at?" she scowled.

Eventually, her sister-in-law managed to calm down enough in order to say, "that you got beaten by Melara Hetherspoon. That's hysterical."

"Why?" asked Brienne, irritated.

Cersei grinned at her. "Because of all the people I have ever met in my life, Melara Hetherspoon is the easiest to manipulate. I was her best friend for _years; _I could tell you secrets about her that would enable you to crack her open like a nut."

In spite of herself, Brienne's heart started beating faster in the anticipation of something hopeful happening. "Melara has secrets?" she inquired, her voice hushed.

"Everyone has secrets," smirked Cersei, "and hers is that once you know what makes her tick, she's putty in your hands."

_I've lost the game against Melara every step of the way, _thought Brienne. _Could Cersei of all people hand me the trump card?_

"What is it?" Brienne asked, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice. "How do I crack her like an egg?"

"I went for the nut metaphor, but you do whatever you want," said Cersei flippantly.

Brienne tried not to roll her eyes, but it was very hard. Sometimes, Cersei had the same skill as Jaime at saying something utterly facetious to knock you off your train of thought. "I'm not worried about metaphors. I'm concerned with how I break Melara. Will you tell me?"

Cersei cocked an eyebrow at her, and for a fleeting second Brienne saw Jaime at his most obnoxious. "Will you become a Lion?" Cersei asked, "I only help out my friends, and I could do with a few more people in my pride. Daenerys has been hatching eggs recently."

It felt like a pact with the devil, but the alternative was to be burnt by Daenerys' dragon fire, so Brienne made her decision quickly. "Yes," she said firmly, knowing her promise was all that would buy her some juicy information. "I'll officially become a Lion."

Cersei's green eyes glittered. "Good. I so want to be _friends._"

Not having time for any of Cersei's mocking silliness, Brienne continued with the topic at hand. "So... will you tell me what Melara's secret is?"

Cersei gave her a wicked smile. "I'll think about it, Plod. Let's see how loyal you are first. Goodnight!"

And without another word, Cersei curled up underneath her blanket, and fell asleep in about three seconds flat. Huffing, Brienne got into her own bed, and tried not to get cross.

_Goodnight Cersei, _Brienne thought bitterly as she watched her former blonde nemesis lost to dreams. _Don't you worry. I'll play the long game with you._

_I'm willing to dance with the devil if I can bring down Melara Hetherspoon, after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked that! Cersei v Daenerys is hotting up!
> 
> As ever, I would luuuurrrvvvee to hear from you in a comment. They keep me young.
> 
> Next chapter... Brienne tries to work out how to persuade Cersei to spill Melara's secrets...


	19. Dragons and Lions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne tries to win Cersei's favour...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this chapter is a great big bunch of silliness. I hope you enjoy. As ever, I love comments and kudos, so I would love to hear from you!

After a week in prison, Brienne got her first visitor, and she was so looking forward to it that she spent the whole day in nervous anticipation of his arrival.

"Chill out, Plod," said Cersei from the middle of her sit-up routine. "It's only Jaime, he's not that thrilling. I heard we're getting turkey twizzlers for lunch today; now _that _is something to get excited about."

Brienne just ignored Cersei's attempts to deflate her. She had so little to look forward in King's Landing Ladies Prison that one look at Jaime's face would be enough to keep her buoyant for days. She knew he would be arriving at five o'clock, so agitated the warden to let her down to the meeting room so she could be there waiting for him. Brienne was glad she did that, because it meant she would be able to hide her disappointment; unlike Lannisport Jail, which had offered ordinary tables and chairs to the prisoners and their visitors, here, Brienne would be separated from Jaime by a pane of glass. They would not be able to touch and would have to talk through phones.

_Who would want contact with a serial killer after all?_

Brienne began tapping her foot in an attempt to release some nervous-excited energy. It didn't really succeed and it just ended up earning her a filthy look from Galazza Galare, who was in the next cubicle. All things considered; Brienne did not care. Galazza was a Dragon, so Brienne would be protected from her ire by Cersei.

_And I'm going to see my Jaime, _she thought. _Give me a break._

As Galazza was tutting so loudly, Brienne almost missed the door swinging open and Jaime entering the room. She barely saw that he was wearing his date jeans and one of the nice shirts she had brought him for Christmas, because the look on his face was so jubilant it washed away thoughts of anything else.

_Jaime, you are here..._

To Brienne's intense sadness, his smile faltered as he reached the chair on the other side of the pane of glass. She wondered whether there was something wrong, whether _she _had done something wrong. Did she seem different? _He _looked tired, his face a little drawn, and there was a patch of grey hair by his temple that hadn't been there before. However, Brienne realised what it was the second Jaime sat down, because he put his hand flat against the glass.

_He wants to touch me, and he can't, _she thought, trying to stop her heart from breaking at the sight.

Answering at once, Brienne mirrored him and put her hand against his, separated only by the transparent pane. That they were so near yet so far brought tears to her eyes. Just then, Jaime started speaking, but she couldn't hear him for the glass dividing them.

_Don't cry wench, _she thought he said. _I'm here._

With her head, Brienne gestured towards the phones. As they couldn't touch, she at least wanted to hear his voice. Even so, she could see Jaime trying to work out how to pick up the phone and keep his hand on the glass at the same time. Knowing that he would stubbornly continue to try and solve the problem for the whole period of time they had, Brienne removed her hand first and picked up the phone. He copied in an instant.

"Wench," he said down the line, his voice filled with affection. "I'm so happy to see you. How are you?"

"As well as can be expected I suppose," she replied, trying to be positive. She didn't want to upset him.

"Are you sleeping well?" he asked, concern dripping from his tone. "How's the food?"

"Nothing on your Moroccan tagine," she teased, which caused him to smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "We had turkey twizzlers for lunch today though, which made a pleasant change from the usual gruel."

She could see how hard he was trying to look happy for her, to keep on a brave face, but at the mention of the gruel, Jaime's mask cracked. "This is so unfair," he croaked. "I want you home."

"I want to _be_ home. Being at home with you is a million times better than life in a cold cell with my cellmate."

His expression grew curious. "You have a cellmate? What is she like?"

The irony of the situation suddenly hit so hard that Brienne laughed. "Oh, you probably know her better than me."

"Really?" he asked, looking confused. "Why?"

"Because it's Cersei."

At that confession, Jaime's eyes went horribly wide, his face as white as sheet. "Cersei? But last time she saw you she tried to kill you! I'll talk to someone, wench, I'll get you out of there. If I didn't think someone was trying to set you up already, this has just confirmed it tenfold."

Brienne made a dismissive motion with her free hand. "Oh, don't worry. To be honest, she's been strangely... _accommodating."_

"Have you lost your mind?" he asked incredulously. "My sister has _never_ been accommodating."

"Well she is now," smiled Brienne. "I think it has something to do with the fact she's got much bigger fish to fry in here than me."

"Like who?"

Remembering that Galazza Galare was in the cubicle next to her, she dropped her voice and said, "there's a gang war in here. Dragons versus Lions."

Jaime furrowed his brow in confusion. "I take it you are serenely floating above it all, as usual. Far too honourable for that sort of thing."

"No," said Brienne honestly. "You have to choose in here if you want to survive. As Cersei is the Queen Bee of the Lions, and my cellmate, I decided better the devil you know."

"The head of the Dragons must be a real cow then," he laughed, trying to joke about a very serious topic he knew little about.

"You could say that," said Brienne quietly, shooting one more surreptitious look at Galazza Galare before saying, "it's Daenerys Targaryen."

If Jaime had looked worried before, now he was positively shaking. "How can they put you in a prison with those two? Not only did you make sure my sister ended up in jail, but you arrested Daenerys and her father was the one who made me lose my hand! There is so much beef between you it's almost like someone wants you dead, and they've made sure of it by putting you in here with Cersei and Daenerys."

"That's why I've thrown my lot in with Cersei," she said, deciding not to tell him just yet that his sister was dangling secrets about Melara in front of her face. "I can look after myself. I just have to be clever."

"But you shouldn't have to!" he cried. "This is all such bullshit! You shouldn't be in prison with people like my sister and Daenerys fucking Targaryen... you shouldn't be in prison at all!"

Not liking to see him distressed, Brienne tried to calm him. "Jaime, don't worry..."

"But I _do _worry," he said ardently. "I worry every second you are not at home with me. I torture myself over if you are eating properly, and if they know you can't stand to sleep with the window closed, and if you're coping as badly with all this as I am. I spend my days talking to Josmyn to try and work out the best way to appeal this injustice; he seems to think there is something fishy about Aurane's testimony. If we can convince him to tell the truth, maybe there's a chance..."

She gave him a gentle smile, trying to bring him back to her. "I don't want to hear about Aurane bloody Waters right now. I want to hear about _you. _How are you? How is work?"

Jaime grimaced. "Work is... work is not fun."

A lump bloomed in Brienne's throat; she hated hearing him say that. When she had first met him, Jaime had been so dismissive about his job that it made her angry that a police officer could be so ambivalent. Yet, over the next weeks and months that followed, she had helped him rediscover his love for it. It depressed her to think that without her, he lost that light.

"Jaime," she said, slightly admonishingly. "Work can be fun without me. You're still going on patrol, you're still..."

"No I'm not," he said quite suddenly, looking at his hands.

"What?" she asked confusedly.

He looked back up; his green eyes sad. "Melara changed the rotas. She put Ilyn back on patrol and makes me stay at the station all day doing paperwork."

Brienne's mouth fell open in shock. "What? That's preposterous. You are the best officer in Casterly, and Ilyn is close to retirement! It's just stupid; you want to be out getting all the action, while Ilyn wants a little bit of quiet time. Why would she do that to both of you?"

"I know," groused Jaime. "I tried arguing with her about it and so did everyone else, but she wasn't hearing any of it. And she's now Chief Inspector so she gets the last word."

Brienne couldn't help but feel even more confused at that. "But it makes no sense. It's just terrible job allocation, delegation, and utilisation of people's skills. Why would she even do it? It makes no sense."

Jaime suddenly looked very bitter. "I think she feels it makes a better view from her office if I'm sitting in the staff room rather than Ilyn."

Her stomach roiling with fury at her rival salivating over Jaime as if he were some prize steak, Brienne just managed to spit, "oh."

_I hate fucking Melara Hetherspoon._

Perhaps reading her mind, or perhaps just tuned to her every expression, Jaime sighed and said, "let's not talk about Melara. Let's talk about..."

"Two minutes!" called the warden, his nasal voice cutting through the little piece of solitude she had found with her husband. Jaime looked as hurt as she felt.

Hearing his heavy gulp down the phone, Brienne had to try to fight back the tears when he spoke. "I want to hold your hand. I miss you so much."

"I miss you too Jaime," she replied, keeping her voice low so no one would hear, except perhaps the person whose job it was to listen to the conversations happening over the phones. "_So much_. I dreamt about you."

He gave her a crooked smile. "A nice dream, I hope."

Brienne felt herself blushing. "Yes. We were at home. In our bed."

"Oh," Jaime said, raising a knowing eyebrow. "It was one of _those _dreams."

"Yeah," she laughed sadly. "It was."

He blushed himself, before asking, "was Dream Jaime any good?"

Brienne gazed at him teasingly in the way he had taught her. "Oh... _amazing. _I'm considering leaving Real Jaime for him."

"You _wound _me, wench," he laughed. "Does Dream Jaime do that thing with his tongue which makes you...?"

"Time's up!" called the warden. "Visiting hours are over."

All humour and mirth vanished from Jaime's face. "Wench, I'll be back as soon as I can. Melara is being a total shit about giving me time off to make the drive up here, but if I have to fake having Dengue Fever every week I will."

"I love you," she said, trying to make sure her voice was filled with affection and not with sadness.

"I love you too, wench, and I'll see you..."

He did not get to finish his sentence, because the phones were switched off.

* * *

May rolled into June, and although Jaime had promised he would come when he could, the truth was that, with his work schedule, it was very difficult for him to do the six hour drive in time for visiting hours. When Brienne managed to have snatched conversations with him on the phone, Jaime told her that Melara was not helping; she refused to grant him half days and asked him outright why he wanted to visit a murderer, someone who tried to kill his colleague.

"Don't worry," Brienne would tell him. "I know you are trying your best. I'll see you when you are able."

He wasn't able very often.

It did not stop everyone else visiting her though. Sansa, Shae, and the Hound drove up one Friday and told her about the production of _Cats _by the Casterly Footlights they had seen. Tyrion visited and talked about potential options in her appeal case. Robb Arryn and Jon asked her opinion on Orton Merryweather's missing boat. When Margaery appeared, they cooed over her belly, which was now showing.

"I feel her kick sometimes," she smiled, as Brienne tried not to feel intensely jealous of the life Margaery was living on the other side of the glass. "I wish you were here to share it with me."

"I wish I was too," Brienne lied.

Yet, strangely, the longer she stayed in King's Landing Ladies Prison, the more it felt familiar and normal. As the days passed, the pane of glass in the visitor's room became less a physical object and more a metaphor. Brienne's friends, family, and Jaime lived beyond it in another world. Time passed differently there; it was marcated with parties, plays, and days out, with pay checks and rent. Brienne could only watch. In contrast, the only thing that stopped the days flowing into each other inside the prison was Cersei's enthusiasm for turkey twizzlers, which were only served on special occasions.

That and the ongoing battle between the Dragons and the Lions, of course.

The first move happened sometime in late May, when Alyce Graceford, a Lion, was beaten up in the disputed bathroom by Irri and Jhiqui. Two weeks later, Cersei ordered a retaliation, by having a group of Lions kick Doreah in the head after a particularly physical work-out in the gym. Brienne thought it was pretty petty to be fighting over a bathroom, but Daenerys and Cersei clearly disagreed, as every time they crossed paths in the canteen, they hissed at each other.

"We'll get you soon, Cersei, don't you worry," growled Daenerys. "With Fire and Blood!"

"Fire and Blood!" chanted the Dragons, in response.

"Oh, if we're going for catchy slogans," replied Cersei tartly, "I've got one of my own."

"What?"

Her green eyes grew malicious. "Bite me, bitch!"

The prison guards had to be called in to break up the resultant brawl, especially after someone accidentally stabbed Rhaegal in the eye with a fork.

After what became known as "The Battle of the Bitches", Head Warden Mord decided he had had enough of the Dragons and Lions fighting. This surprised Brienne greatly as, during her incarceration, she had come to the conclusion that he was as corrupt, lazy, and cruel as the Head Warden in _Shawshank Redemption. _She was even more shocked about the announcement he made at rollcall one morning.

"We think it is wise to encourage a little bit of _friendliness _to goings-on in King's Landing Ladies Prison," he said, clearly meaning quite the opposite. "So I propose we have a netball tournament between the Dragons and the Lions to resolve who has ownership of the disputed bathroom."

Brienne found the fact that the Head Warden was legitimising this incredibly petty battle difficult to cope with, so tried to fight back. "Wouldn't it be better not to get involved? You are the Head Warden."

He laughed, throaty and aggressive. "Yes, I am. But I also like watching firework displays."

As the prize was so important to Cersei, she threw herself into the role of captain of the Lions with aplomb. For all her enthusiasm, however, it was just a shame she was such a shitty strategist. Instead of making tactical decisions, Cersei liked sitting in corners and cackling maniacally to herself at her own perceived cleverness. Watching this spectacle became too much so, eventually, Brienne decided to become head coach of the team, mainly because the alternative was letting Cersei to come up with batshit crazy plans like knee-capping the referee that would only lead to the Lions losing.

"Your tactics better work," said Cersei darkly over dinner the day before the match.

"They _will _work," insisted Brienne. "I used to play netball at school."

"Ooooh, you are so qualified," teased Cersei. "And you better hope they work."

"Why?"

Cersei grinned maliciously. "Because I have secrets you want, Plod, and I might be willing to give them up if we win."

As Brienne only responded to that by eating more slop, Cersei looked over her shoulder at the Mother of Dragons. Daenerys Targaryen was sitting at another table with her team, looking supremely grumpy.

"What's the problem with her?" asked Brienne.

Cersei smirked, looking back at her with impish glee. "No idea. Hopefully she's on her period and has really bad cramps. It can only be good for us."

Brienne wasn't sure how good for them Daenerys' fury the following day when the Dragons and the Lions were lined up on the crappy old netball court in the exercise yard. As she stared at the Lions' line up, Daenerys' violet eyes were flashing furiously, and she kept mouthing _I'm going to win _at Cersei. To Brienne's disappointment, Daenerys' display was putting off several of the Lions' players, particularly Harriet Strickland, the Goal Attack, who was standing next to Cersei, her knees trembling.

_I've seen much worse than this, _thought Brienne, as she watched Drogon lick her lips as if she were eyeing up a particularly tasty rack of ribs. _I fought a murderous cult... and won._

"Now, let's keep this game clean, ladies," said Mord, even though it was clear by his face that he wouldn't mind a little girl-on-girl action. "Whoever wins gets the bathroom. Agreed?"

"Agreed," said Cersei and Daenerys in unison.

And then, after a very tense handshake, the game began. Brienne, being very tall, was goalkeeper, while Cersei, who always had a flair for the dramatic, was goal shooter. Perhaps somewhat surprisingly, given her diminutive height, Daenerys took the position of goal shooter too, meaning Brienne had to mark her for much of the game.

"I am Daenerys Targaryen, Mother of Dragons," she announced dramatically as the game began, "and I am going to _crush _you."

"Good luck with that," replied Brienne, smiling as she bounced the ball away the second it approached Daenerys. At that little physical and verbal dig, Daenerys' eyes narrowed with irritation.

_Maybe it won't take much to push her over the edge, _thought Brienne.

That assumption turned out to be true. When planning battle tactics, Brienne had deduced that Daenerys would rely very much on the intimidating height of her defenders, Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion. Having watched them exercise in the gym over the past few days, Brienne had noticed they did nothing but weights, so she deduced they were probably slow. Consequently, she had picked a team that was quick and agile; Harriet Strickland turned out to be very speedy, and Cersei had inherited the Lannister family gazelle-running trait like her brother.

And then, anytime the ball came anywhere near Daenerys, Brienne would use her considerable height advantage and knock it out of the way.

"Stop doing that!" hissed Daenerys, after Brienne had stolen the ball from her for the fiftieth time.

"No," replied Brienne, trying not to smile. "It's called the rules of the game. Deal with it."

_And I love playing by the rules._

By half time it was five all, and the match was tensely fought. Cersei had some suggestions as how they could mix up their game plan.

"I think we should chose violence," she said seriously. "Plod, no one would honestly care if you sat on Daenerys and killed her. You'd be doing us all a favour."

Brienne rolled her eyes. "Just because she's on the opposing team it doesn't mean we have to be nasty. It's important to cultivate a sense of good sportsmanship."

Cersei just stared at Brienne blankly, as if she didn't understand the words that had just come out of her mouth. "Everyone who isn't us is an enemy, Brienne. I vote we _injure _someone."

"This is why you are _guilty _of several murders, and I am not," replied Brienne, rolling her eyes. "I think we should just stick to the plan. Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion will start to tire in the second half; it's a hot day. We should capitalise on that."

And capitalise on that they did. Five minutes in, the Lions scored another goal, and ten minutes later another one. Up by the Lions' net, Daenerys looked like she wanted to explode. "You'll pay for this," she spat at Brienne, her eyes bright, "all of you."

"It's only a game of netball, Daenerys," said Brienne wearily, as she knocked the ball out of Daenerys' hand once more, trying to beat down a smile.

For the first time since she had arrived at King's Landing, Brienne had to admit she was enjoying herself. It turned into full blown fun just as Cersei slipped the ball past Drogon and into the Dragon's hoop, just before the end of the game. That it was all over was signalled by Head Warden Mord ringing a bell. It was so loud, it rang in Brienne's ears for moments after it ended; piercing, screeching, and mind-numbingly noisy.

"And that's it!" cried Head Warden Mord. "The Lions have won!"

Cersei turned around to survey her kingdom, her green eyes wide with glee, and then she ran across the court, straight into Brienne's arms. "We won, Plod! We won!"

Brienne was about to say something, but suddenly a sound ruptured the air that was so angry, crazed, and pain stricken it matched the bell in obnoxiousness. It was so over-the-top that everyone else on the court fell silent.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"

It was Daenerys Targaryen.

"What the fuck is she doing?" asked Cersei.

Brienne didn't have an answer. All she could do was stare bemusedly as Daenerys started running up and down the netball court, screaming loudly and throwing the ball at any innocent bystander she saw. Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion joined her, matching their mistress with their fury. At everybody had heard rumours about them eating people on the outside, the big crowd that had come to watch the game quickly descended into panic, trying to flee.

"Why is she lashing out at loads of innocent bystanders?" asked Brienne confusedly, as Daenerys punched Alyce Graceford in the face. "Why isn't she coming after _you? _It's you she wants."

Cersei just shrugged. "Maybe she's gone mad. It makes sense if you've been watching how her behaviour has been slowly developing over the last couple of months."

"Bullshit," replied Brienne. "Just because she looked a little grumpy at dinner last night, it doesn't mean she's _mad._"

"Pfft," huffed Cersei. "Whatever. Either way, this means we've won."

"I suppose it does," said Brienne mildly as she watched a group of prison guards try to restrain Daenerys, Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion.

"And you know what that means."

"No?" answered Brienne. "What does it mean?"

Cersei gave her a big smile that almost appeared friendly. "It means you've proved your loyalty, Plod."

Brienne's heart beat faster. "Does it?"

"Yes," nodded Cersei. "So when we get back to our cell, we can both sit round the fire, and I'll tell you a story about Melara Hetherspoon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you probably know, my knowledge for how prisons work comes from that one time I watched Shawshank Redemption. Even if it is all total rubbish, I hope you enjoyed that (it was a fun one to write). If you have time, please leave a comment or kudos; I appreciate each and every one immensely.
> 
> Next chapter... Cersei tells Brienne Melara's secret...


	20. Written in the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei tells Brienne Melara's secret...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this chapter is fairly short, but it has some insight into Melara (at last) so I hope you enjoy it. As ever, I love comments and kudos :)

"Cersei," said Brienne a little tersely, "can you just tell me please?"

Cersei grinned at her like the cat who had got the cream. "If I am going to tell you how to deal with Melara Hetherspoon effectively, I want mood lighting."

Brienne switched on her bedside lamp. "Is that good enough?"

"Perfect," replied Cersei, settling back into her bed. "Now, are we sitting comfortably?"

In response, Brienne sat down on the edge of her bed. It wasn't exactly _comfortable, _she was far too excited for that, but at least she was sitting. "Yes."

"Great, so now I'll begin," beamed Cersei, clearing her throat. Brienne could only watch in nervous anticipation. "So... you want to know how to manipulate Melara Hetherspoon, correct?"

"Correct," replied Brienne, not wanting to say too much unless she interrupted Cersei's flow.

"Then follow my advice," said Cersei, as if she was a teacher in a kindergarten and Brienne was a very stupid child. "If you want to make Melara putty in your hands, you just have to make sure she believes her psychic advisor Maggy told her to do it."

Brienne looked at Cersei confusedly. From the first moments she had known Melara, Brienne had realised that she was into all the New Age psychic astrology stuff, she just didn't realise how deep it ran. "You mean... she really truly believes in all that rubbish?"

Cersei nodded slowly. "One hundred percent."

It seemed so perplexing to Brienne. She could understand being marginally interested in the stars and fortune telling, but to have it rule your life? Brienne thought it was so strange, like putting your faith in the changing of the wind or the waves on the shore. Eventually, Brienne founds the words. "But _why?_" she asked. "Why on earth would you let the stars govern your life?"

Cersei smiled at her knowingly. "Because once Maggy told her the thing she wanted to hear most in the whole world."

Brienne narrowed her eyes. "What was that?"

"Well," said Cersei, using a soft tone of voice that clearly indicated she was about to engage in a bit of scene setting. "When I was fourteen a travelling fair came to Casterly. It had all sorts; rollercoasters, dodgems, candyfloss, and everyone in town was going."

"Even Melara?" asked Brienne.

Cersei nodded. "Even Melara. The two of us arranged to go with our other friend - well, I say _friend, _but she was more like a fat little lapdog - Jeyne Farman."

"You are always so nice about people," said Brienne tartly.

"Thank you," replied Cersei, as if Brienne had just paid her a genuine compliment. "As we were walking around, we bumped into Jaime, Bronn, and Addam Marbrand. Melara went the colour of a tomato; that was the moment I realised that Melara was _hella _into Jaime, but I didn't say anything, because I always think it is good to keep people's secrets in case I one day want to use them against them."

"Like now?" said Brienne airily.

"Like now," grinned Cersei.

Brienne had to try to supress her need to roll her eyes as Cersei continued her story. "Anyway, once we had been on the rollercoasters and the dodgems and eaten enough candyfloss to put on several dress sizes, Melara noticed this tatty old tent with a sign saying _Mystic Maggy: It's Written in the Stars. _She begged Jeyne and I to go inside with her because she wanted her fortune told. Eventually I relented, because I thought it was all a game, but Jeyne looked a little nervous. If I remember rightly, Jeyne legged it the second we went inside because Maggy had yellow eyes."

Brienne gulped. "Yellow?"

"Yes," she replied, suddenly looking a little fearful. "Yellow. While Jeyne ran out the tent screaming at the sight, Melara looked... mesmerised, like she'd never seen anything so wonderful before. The tent was full of all the stuff that charlatans use to fool silly girls - star charts, crystal balls, a great big turban to rival Professor Quirrell's - but Melara didn't see any of that. She just saw magic."

Cersei took a dramatic pause at that point, as if to let the revelation settle in. Brienne did not have time for such spectacle, however, and pushed ahead with a question. "What did Melara ask her?" inquired Brienne, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice.

"Nothing," Cersei said. Brienne went to interrupt, but Cersei held her had up. "It was Maggy that spoke first. She said she didn't need to ask about what we were in her tent for. She could tell by the look in our eyes. Apparently, I wanted to know about power, while Melara had a burning question about love."

A knot began to tie itself in Brienne's stomach. "Love?"

"Love," repeated Cersei, smiling gently. "And, clearly, she was right as Melara charged forward and sat in the seat opposite her, looking weirdly desperate. Maggy then cackled like a witch and told her to ask away. I'll never forget what Melara said next because she didn't even look back at me. She just threw this question into the world without a second thought, like she didn't give a shit who heard."

"What did she ask?"

Cersei ran her fingers through her golden hair, the same colour as her brother's. "She asked if Jaime would ever love her."

Brienne took a great intake of breath at that statement. Even as Cersei's eyes burned brightly with the glee of telling her tale, Brienne could not help but feel worried. How was it possible that a fourteen year old girl could express her feelings so ardently, and still be affected by that same emotion all that time later? Trying to calm herself, Brienne inquired, "and what did Maggy say to that?"

Cersei leant forward, clearly enjoying weaving this tale. "Her big yellow eyes went super wide and she started gesticulating like some crazy mystic. Then, once she had Melara's entire attention, she whispered, _Jaime will say he loves you under the full moon at Casterly Rock and it will be the happiest day of your life, little one. _Melara nearly fell off her seat with joy, but Maggy hadn't finished. Once Melara had calmed down, the old witch then said, _but there will be another, who he will love more. You will smell her breath. She will be close._"

Cersei's expression was so dazzling that Brienne thought it must have been similar to the one Maggy had used all those years ago to lure susceptible Melara in. "Cersei," asked Brienne, somewhat bemused. "What does that even mean?"

Cersei shrugged. "I don't know, but I don't think it's important, because I know for a fact that Maggy was talking a load of bollocks."

"Why would you say that?"

Cersei let out a little snort and then smirked at her. "Because Maggy told me that I would be cast down and have everything I hold dear taken by someone younger and more beautiful. And... no offence... but I was taken down by _you, _so I think Maggy's prophecy turned out to be a crock of shit."

Brienne looked at her sister-in-law with irritation. "Firstly, I think you _do _mean offence when you say stuff like that."

"Yeah, you are probably right," smiled Cersei mockingly.

"And secondly, maybe Maggy was correct and she was talking about inner beauty."

Cersei rolled her eyes. "Oh god, you are not one of those body positivity weirdos, are you?"

"No..."

"Good," said Cersei firmly, "so we can both continue to read Maggy's prophecy totally literally."

Seeing that Cersei had now well and truly gone off topic, Brienne tried to reel her in. "And Melara decided to read Maggy's prophecy about Jaime totally literally, I suppose."

Cersei nodded. "She used to cover her notebook in his initials, and always told me that she wanted me to be her bridesmaid at her and Jaime's wedding, because I was her future sister-in-law."

Trying to keep the encroaching fear of the depth of Melara's feelings for Jaime at bay, Brienne tried to rationalise it all. "That all just sounds like a silly teenage crush."

Cersei cocked an eyebrow at her, and for a second Brienne saw Jaime. "You think? I would agree with you if that was all it was limited to but, although Melara had her heart _set _on the first part of Maggy's prophecy, it was the second part that used to terrify her. The idea of being Jaime's second best drove her mad and she used to try and scare off any girl who liked him. She slashed Shierle Swyft's tires after she went to the pictures with him one time, and when poor Jeyne Farman confessed at a sleepover to fancying Jaime too, Melara pushed her down a well. She broke her leg and we had to call an ambulance, but Stupid Jeyne was persuaded to keep quiet about Melara having done it on purpose because we were all _friends_."

Brienne's mouth dropped open. "She _pushed her down a well?"_

"Yeah," laughed Cersei. "Like... my psychologist keeps telling me I'm a raging narcissist with psychopathic tendencies but, even so, that's a bit far even for me."

Brienne furrowed her brow. "Melara _pushed someone down a well, _just because they liked Jaime?"

Cersei snorted. "Yeah. Extra, right? Whenever it came to Jaime, she would never play fair, and didn't care about hurting those who dared to want him."

"Right," replied Brienne distantly, her focus now not on her obnoxious blonde cellmate but the new Chief Inspector of the Casterly Constabulary.

_And the difference between you and me, Brienne, is that you always insist on playing by the rules... whereas I don't mind cheating..._

The answer came to Brienne in one moment of shining, bright clarity.

Senelle. Taena. Pia. What did they all have in common? It was not some shady deals with Orton Merryweather, or a commitment to Gothic architecture, or a desire to fight with the Brotherhood against the HS3 project.

It was Jaime.

The ex, the fling, and the one night stand. And his wife had been framed for their murder. Brienne got up from her bed so quickly that she almost saw stars.

"THAT BITCH!" she shouted. "THAT ABSOLUTE BITCH!"

Cersei suddenly looked very alarmed. "Woah. Calm down. Are we still talking about Melara here?"

"OF COURSE WE ARE FUCKING TALKING ABOUT MELARA!" screamed Brienne, equal parts furious and elated that she had finally put it together. "IT'S MELARA, CERSEI! MELARA IS THE MURDERER! AND THAT BITCH FRAMED ME BECAUSE SHE WANTS MY MAN!"

Cersei began massaging her temple with one of her graceful hands. "Urgh. Look, can we please stop with the screaming and you just explain this to me like a normal person? I have a headache."

Brienne was pacing up and down, her heart beating furiously in her chest as she started to piece it all together. "I thought this would be like last time, with a village wide murderous cult, because then I believed _you _were the murderer for catty reasons. But this isn't some bullshit about Orton Merryweather's campaign! This is _personal. _Melara just doesn't like people playing with her toys."

Cersei's eyes went wide. "And Jaime is her toy?"

"She thinks he is," said Brienne, nervous-excited energy overwhelming her, "and that's what makes her think she has a right to hurt people who try to take him away. It all started with Jeyne Farman. You know, with serial killers, they start small. Pushing Jeyne down a well was just the first step. The seed of this obsession to hurt people who wanted Jaime was planted. And then she left Casterly and went to Birmingham and spent years and years nurturing this tiny jealous monster in her head. And when she came back to Casterly and saw him, it was reawakened. She was ready to implement her plan that had been brewing for _years_."

Cersei almost looked impressed. "And what _was_ her plan?"

"The pufferfish," Brienne said, remembering instantly, "Melara _knew _about the pufferfish before they were stolen, because she met Senelle in the supermarket during the window of time they went missing. And then Senelle was probably poisoned during Orton Merryweather's party... and Melara was at that party."

Cersei was watching Brienne with rapt interest, like she was living for the drama. "And what about Taena?"

"I sent Margaery and Melara to interview Taena the day she was poisoned. They went to her house... perhaps there was a short amount of time when Melara was left alone. And as for Pod... Melara was at _Oh My Cod! _with him. _She even went back to the shop because her order was muddled up. _Perhaps that was when she made the switch?"

"But wouldn't that mean that Melara had been carrying around deadly pufferfish the whole time?" asked Cersei. "Isn't that a bit weird?"

Brienne thought about it for a moment, before she came up with her answer. "Aurane," she gasped, remembering how shifty he always was. "Every time someone was poisoned, he made a mysterious appearance; he was Melara's date at Orton's party, and at the fish and chip shop during the mix up. Perhaps he was even hanging around Taena's house when Margaery and Melara went to interview her. He's the courier! And it's also his testimony that put me in prison! They're working together!"

Cersei looked a little confused. "But... why? I've never heard of this Aurane dude. Why would he work with Melara?"

Sitting back down on her bed, Brienne tried to breathe. Thinking back across every conversation with him, she eventually reached the answer. "Melara... before she came to Casterly, she worked as a policewoman in Birmingham. Aurane told me he used to live in Birmingham too. Perhaps they've known each other for years!" It didn't answer everything, but it was the closest Brienne had got to piecing this all together, so she felt a great wave of relief wash over her. "This isn't about anything other Melara's desperate need to have Jaime say he loves her at Casterly Rock!"

"But he loves you, doesn't he?" asked Cersei, totally sincere. "How was that plan ever going to work?"

Brienne's breathing became ragged as her fury grew. She was amazed at how easily she had been played. "I think she was hoping that Jaime would believe that I was capable of murder, that the evidence would be so convincing that he would leave me."

Cersei scoffed. "She doesn't know my brother at all then. He gave up being a Lannister for you; he'd never believe you were capable of anything worse than stealing soap from a hotel."

"I don't even do that," replied Brienne as Cersei laughed.

"Well, even so," her sister-in-law said, "my point still stands."

Brienne nodded, knowing what Cersei was saying was true. The weight of Jaime's love was tremendous even here, hundreds of miles away from him in a cold jail cell. "It does," agreed Brienne. "He would never believe a bad thing of me and, for that reason, it's clear Melara doesn't know him. She sees this handsome blond prince with beautiful green eyes, but he is so much more than that. He is kind, good, funny and, yes, our cat has probably died in the time I've been locked in here considering how often he forgets to feed her, but he is so full of love that he would never consider betraying me."

"Oooh," smirked Cersei sarcastically, "maybe yours and Jaime's love is _written in the stars, _just like Maggy said."

"No," said Brienne firmly, "it's not written in the stars. We are just two people who love each other, who have to try very hard to make it work. It's not destiny, or fate, or any other such rubbish. Me and him are together because we _want _to be together. Even if we don't always get it one hundred percent right, we _try, _and that's enough."

Cersei narrowed her eyes at Brienne. "You know what, Plod. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you're not bad for my brother."

Brienne smiled mildly. "Oh my god, is that a compliment from Cersei Lannister?"

Cersei laughed once more, before throwing herself back on her bed. "It might be, but that's all you are getting from me."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," laughed Brienne, almost affectionately.

* * *

For the next few days, Brienne waited in anxious anticipation for Jaime - her Jaime, the real Jaime - to come visit. She was desperate to tell him what she had learned from Cersei, and her suspicions about Melara. As he was out in the real world, Jaime could _do _something about it; he could interrogate Aurane, perhaps establish links between him and Melara, or maybe even convince the latter to confess. Yet, at the same time, Brienne wanted to beg him to stay safe and be on his guard. She knew how these things worked; as Jaime was the object of Melara's obsession, things could quickly turn nasty if she ever worked out that Jaime was not quite who she painted him to be.

In spite of her worries, however, for the first time since Brienne arrived at King's Landing, the possibility of freedom and being back with Jaime and her friends seemed within reach. The prospect was so sweet that it gave her something to look forward to other than Cersei's catty comments about the dinner menu. It was therefore a disappointment when, on the day before he was meant to arrive, Brienne got a phone call from Margaery.

"Hey Brienne, I'm just phoning to tell you Jaime can't come tomorrow. He sends his apologies but... I'll be coming instead."

"Oh," said Brienne, trying not to sound too disheartened. In truth, she hasn't seen him for weeks. She suspected that it was his work schedule, but the last few times she had spoken to him on the phone, he had been so evasive and weird that she was starting to suspect something was up. "Is everything alright with him?"

"Who?"

"Jaime," Brienne replied, trying to sound casual. "He hasn't been to see me for the last few weeks. I just wondered if everything was okay?"

There was a beat of silence. "As far as I know, everything is _fine,_" said Margaery, sounding almost too enthusiastic. "I'm sure he'd tell you if there was something wrong."

_Would he? _thought Brienne. _We are notoriously shit at communicating._

"Well... if you are sure..."

"I _am _sure," replied Margaery, bright and cheerful and ridiculously over the top. "I'll see you tomorrow."

It was nice to see Margaery the next day, and Brienne wasted no time in telling her everything Cersei had said about Melara. Margaery looked incandescent with rage, which, all things considered, was an amusing image given the baby bump.

"We will not let that fucking bitch get away with this," she growled down the phone. "All of us back at the station are doing everything we can to get you off, but this will just put fire in our bellies."

"I'm glad to hear," smiled Brienne. "It's nice to know I have support."

"You _do _have support," emphasised Margaery. "And now we know this, we can all put our efforts fully into making Melara crack. Perhaps I could get Pod to..."

Brienne spent the rest of the call listening to Margaery's hare-brained schemes to get Melara to confess but, although her brilliant best friend was making her laugh, Brienne couldn't help but notice that Jaime remained weirdly absent from the conversation. As Margaery kept talking at length about putting recording equipment in the Chief Inspector's office, Brienne never got a chance to ask about him, and the phones were cut off before she got anything approaching an answer.

Consequently, when she went to bed that night, Brienne stared at the back of Cersei's Lannister blonde head on the other side of the room and thought of Jaime.

_Where is he? Where is my husband?_

_Doesn't he want to see me?_

_Is he okay? Is he hurt? Has Melara got to him?_

_Where is the man I love?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHH!!! I hope you liked that. There's obviously still a bit more of the mystery to come, but I hope you like where I've taken this story so far. I would love to hear what you think in a comment; each and every one makes me a better writer.
> 
> Next chapter... Brienne gets a visit from Jaime...
> 
> PS. Yes, I am a lover of the "Brienne is the Younger and More Beautiful One" theory :)


	21. The End and the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne gets a visit from Jaime in prison...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, welcome back! In case you are unaware, I have posted a Melara POV chapter over on my "Many Flavours of Ice Cream" story. It is Chapter 17 "He Moves Through the Fair" if you are interested.
> 
> Now, this chapter has some feels. Sorry!

It was another week before she heard from Jaime, and in all the time Brienne spent waiting, she was contorted with worry. She missed him and wanted to know he was well. Even though Margaery had said he was _fine, _Brienne was scared that her best friend wasn't telling the truth. Was he finding it difficult at work when he was forced to just sit and do paperwork all day? Was he feeling watched and harassed by Melara? Did it hurt him to be parted from her as it hurt her to be parted from him?

It hurt that she wasn't able to ask him directly, wasn't able to hold him, touch him, make sure he was okay. Phoning was not enough, but it would have to make do. Consequently, whenever she knew she was going to be able to talk to him she allowed the excitement to build, even if she knew she would find it tremendously hard if he confessed he wasn't coping well.

"Hello wench," he said when he picked up the phone, his voice hoarse but familiar.

Her heart swelled at the sound. "Hello, my love, how are you?"

"Fine." _Fine, _there was that word again; superficially reassuring but not allowing any real insight into how he was doing. "How are you?"

"Happy now I'm talking to you," she said, unable to stop the smile spreading across her face. "Where have you been? I've been worried. Is everything okay?"

His voice sounded laden when he responded. "I'm fine, I told you. Tell me about you. What have you been doing to keep yourself occupied?"

As it was clear Jaime was not going to be very forthcoming on how he was doing, Brienne tried to be effusive and upbeat about her life in prison. She told him about Cersei organising a push for better food, arguing that calorific goodness was the only thing they had to look forward to in here. She told him about how she had found a book about Egyptian hieroglyphics in the library and was considering teaching herself. And she told him a funny story about how Daenerys Targaryen had been forced to make a public apology after her antics at the netball game. Jaime listened in silence, contributing only the odd _mmm _or _that sounds good _when she left him a little gap in her stories. Once the well had run dry, however, she found they skidded into an uneasy silence.

"Jaime."

"Mmm?"

"Are you sure you are okay?" she asked tentatively. "It's just you seem very quiet."

"Sorry," he said gently. "I have a lot on my mind."

She tried to keep his mood up. "Well, we'll see each other tomorrow when you come to visit, won't we? It will be so good to see your face. I've missed you so much, and it will put my mind at rest to actually have you in front of me..."

Jaime did not let her finish. "Brienne?"

"Yes?"

"You know that I'd never willingly hurt you, don't you?" The tone in his voice was so palpably sincere that it made Brienne's heart beat faster.

"Of course I do, Jaime," she breathed, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," he replied, his voice cracking. "Always and forever."

"Jaime, I..."

The guard came over with a stern look on his face. "Hang up. I've already given you too much time."

Knowing there was no arguing, Brienne had time for one last "I love you, Jaime", before she was forced to end the call.

* * *

In spite of the fact Brienne was pleased to have finally spoken to him, her conversation with Jaime had only succeeded in making her feel anxious and worried about him. She could only hope that once she had him in front of her, he would be able to do what she always struggled with; communicate freely. As ever, Brienne was waiting in the meeting room before Jaime was due to arrive so she could see him the moment he came through the door. Yet, when he did actually appear, Brienne just felt a swooping sensation at the pit of her stomach.

Jaime looked _awful; _he was pale, like he hadn't seen the sun in weeks, and his hair had lost much of the lustre that made him appear a golden lion. He had lost weight and Brienne could see traces of silver around his temple. She could have cried. When he sat down, Brienne instantly pressed her hand to the glass, wanting to feel close to him. To her surprise, Jaime didn't mirror her but just continued to avoid eye contact.

At the sight of him broken and distant, the tears were spilling down her cheeks before she could stop them. Picking up the phone, Brienne hoped she could get through to him. Once he noticed what she was doing, Jaime looked at the phone on his side of the window. She was expecting him to be looking forward to talking to her; instead, Jaime gazed at the phone as if he expected it to bite him. Eventually, it took Brienne knocking on the glass to persuade him to talk to her.

Her worries came out in a flood. "Jaime, oh my love. What's the matter? Are you well? Have you been eating? Oh... don't worry about me so much to put yourself in this position. Are you ill? Are you...?"

"Brienne..."

"Margaery told me you were fine, but I didn't believe her, and now you come here looking like _this? _I wish I was at home with you so I could look after you, because you don't look well..."

"Brienne, please..."

"Oh Jaime, I've missed you so much. Why didn't you tell me you were struggling? We could have talked. We both know it's important to try and communicate, and even though I am in here, you matter just as much as I do, so if you are suffering you should tell me. Maybe I would be able to help. Maybe..."

"Brienne," he interjected suddenly, loudly enough that she could almost hear it through the glass. "Please can you just stop talking for a moment."

She shut her mouth instantly, finding it difficult to see him through her tears. It was clearly hard for him to say what he wanted, as he kept wordlessly mouthing, forming words and then discarding them.

"Say what you need to say," she breathed, trying to be helpful. "I'm listening."

In an instant, he looked up at her, green meeting blue. It made her shiver with both longing and fear.

"Brienne."

"Jaime."

He took a small gulp of air. "It's over."

She furrowed her brow at him, confused. "What's over?"

His next sentence came out in a rush. "You and me; I want a divorce."

The cold rushed in, freezing Brienne to the bone. "What?"

"I want a _divorce_," Jaime said again, but this time, when he hit on the last word - _divorce _\- a single tear rolled down his cheek. In spite of what he had just said, Brienne wanted nothing more than reach out and wipe it away.

It took her a while to find the words, but when she did, all she could manage was, "Jaime... why? What have I done?"

At that, he crumpled. "Nothing," he sobbed, "nothing at all. You're the best wife, wench."

Reeling from that admission, Brienne spluttered, "then _why_, Jaime? Why do you want to divorce me? I love you so much. So, so much. I know it is hard with me in here, but as I told Margaery, I think I've got a way out..."

Jaime wiped his cheeks with the back of his right arm, but it had little impact as his shoulders began to quake with the strength of his tears. "It's too late. We were over before you even came in here..."

"No we weren't," insisted Brienne, her voice little more than a whine. "I know we had our problems, but we had a _plan _about the baby issue, and we'd agreed to go to couples' therapy. We were working on things. I don't want to give all that up, Jaime. I don't want to give up on _you. _I love you and I believe I can get out of here. I believe we can be together again, a proper husband and wife. I know it is hard to be separated..."

He looked up once more, and she expected to see tenderness and sadness. Instead, it was as if he had flipped a switch as his green eyes were cold, almost like his sister's. "It's not _hard _to be apart from you," he hissed, wearing the expression of a cornered, wounded dog. "That's what I realised when you came in here. I don't miss you. I'm happy on my own. Getting married was a mistake. Being together... a... a... mistake."

At that last terrible word, he dropped eye contact, which made the tear streaks on his cheeks even more prominent in the light. "Jaime," she begged, his name a prayer. "Please don't do this."

In spite of all the terrible things he had just said, he was still crying. "I have to, wench. I have to."

"No, you don't!" she said, suddenly angry. "I don't understand why you are doing this. Yesterday on the phone you said..."

His eyes suddenly went wide, almost as if he was scared. "Shhh... don't mention what I said on the phone... not now. None of that matters. I lied. We're over. I want a divorce."

Brienne was so stunned she could barely breathe but, even so, she felt she had to speak, had to voice her horror. "Jaime, if you're going to break my heart, can you please at least give me a reason that feels genuine? This isn't you. Doing it like this is _cruel, _and you are not cruel. You've never been cruel."

"Maybe you don't know me," he spat. "You don't know what I'm capable of."

"I _do _know you," she insisted, wanting to sound strong even though her heart was breaking. "You're a good man, my man, and I _love _you so much. If I could break through this glass right now, I would hold you and kiss you and make you see sense. I know it's hard, but we can work through this, if we just try."

Even as the tears rolled down his cheeks, he kept his voice hard and cold. "I don't want to try. I don't want _you._"

It was too much, and Brienne suddenly burst into noisy tears. "Jaime, I... I... I... I love you. Please..." As she wept, his expression grew tormented.

"Are you happy now?" he growled down the phone, not looking at Brienne. She was confused; it didn't seem to have any relevance to what they had been talking about. As she went to say something, to ask him what he meant, but he just slammed the phone down with all the force he could muster and got to his feet.

_He's leaving, _she thought desperately. _He's really leaving me..._

Dropping the phone at her end, she reached for the glass, pressing both hands to the window. "Jaime, please don't do this," she begged, even though she knew he couldn't hear her. "I love you. I love you." It was all so strange; Jaime was crying almost as much as she was, and yet here he was walking away. "Jaime... please..."

With one last tortured look, Jaime turned away from her, and it only increased Brienne's desperation. Banging against the window, she tried to get his attention, even as he determinedly did not engage with her.

"Jaime, please! Jaime, listen to me! Please! I love you! Jaime don't do this. Don't do this!"

Brienne kept shouting as he traversed the room, even after he marched through the door and out into the corridor. She hit the window so hard that she knew she would have bruises, but she didn't care; she needed to see him, needed to talk to him. It couldn't end like this!

"Jaime!" she cried, even after he had gone. "Jaime, please!"

Brienne did not stop calling his name until the guards came and took her away.

* * *

"Plod," came Cersei's voice from the other side of the room. "What's the matter? You look... angry."

"I'm not angry," replied Brienne, letting the tears fall down her cheeks.

"Sorry, I'm bad with this emotional bullshit," said Cersei, reconsidering the sight before her. "Are you sad?"

"Heartbroken," corrected Brienne. "I'm heartbroken."

"Why?"

Having to voice it made her cry even harder. "Jaime. He wants a divorce."

In a second, Cersei had dashed across the room, and launched herself onto the end of Brienne's bed. "He what?"

"He wants a divorce," sobbed Brienne, not wanting to cry in front of Cersei but not being able to keep it back.

Cersei made a disgusted sound at the back of her throat. "What a knobhead. What reason did he give you?"

_Did he give me a reason? _thought Brienne, unsure. He had told her that being together was a mistake, but also that she was the best wife. It was nothing but a congealed mess of half-justifications, pushed out through tears. It didn't make any sense.

"I don't know," she cried. "It was a jumble of things. He was upset and he looked so ill. I bet he hasn't been eating properly, because he's really stressed and worried. I wish he would take better care of himself; I wish..."

Cersei gave her a bemused expression. "My dipshit of a brother has just said he wants a divorce and you are twittering on about whether he's been getting his five a day. Get some perspective, Plod. He's screwed you over. Why are you worrying about him?"

There was a simple answer. "Because I love him, and I want him to be happy."

_Even if it's not with me, _came a little voice in her head. _He deserves to be free and happy, and not chained to me in here, if that's what he really wants._

Cersei rolled her eyes. "You are too good for this world, Plod."

"Thank you?" sniffed Brienne, suspecting that may have been an attempt at a compliment.

"If I were you," said Cersei authoritatively. "I'd get my revenge. You know, Robert was pretty easy to get rid of, he..."

That evening, Brienne let Cersei talk at her about the best way of disposing of annoying husbands, but really Brienne's mind was totally on Jaime. When he had come to see her, he had been acting so strangely and looked so sad, and what he had said had been totally at odds with what he had said the previous night on the phone. Was this just a stressful moment where it had all got too much and he would regret it in the morning? Would she be able to talk to him and get him to see sense? Brienne thought it was possible because, in her heart of hearts, she knew Jaime loved her.

_Then why has he asked for a divorce?_

She spent the next week trying to logically mull over what Jaime had done, but Brienne found that very difficult as it had always been hard to think about Jaime with anything approaching rationality. With him, it had always been love and sex and _feelings_, which made what he had asked of her so much harder to contemplate. _Divorce. _Even so, by carefully using Doctor Aemon's advice to prevent herself catastrophising, Brienne managed to convince herself she could talk him around; she knew he still loved her, deep down.

That was until Tyrion and Shae came to visit.

When they entered the meeting room, both of them wore expressions that would be best adopted at a funeral. As they were sat in a cubicle that had three phones, it allowed both of them to speak at the same time. Shae went first.

"I'm so, so sorry Brienne," she said, her big dark eyes wide.

Brienne shrugged. "I'm getting used to life in here, and I have hope that I'll be out soon."

Shae gave her a soft expression. "I'm not talking about prison."

"No?" replied Brienne, confused. "What are you talking about then?"

Tyrion answered the question for Shae. "Jaime. How he's behaving is reprehensible. He's being an utter, utter shit."

Part of Brienne agreed with Tyrion on that assessment of her husband's behaviour, but the larger, more romantic half of her knew that he would come around once they were just able to _talk. _"He's struggling at the moment; being separated from each other is _hard, _but I have to believe we can find a way around..."

"Struggling?" asked Tyrion incredulously. "If he was struggling, he could talk to his friends, or get counselling. There's a million things he could have done before shacking up with Melara fucking Hetherspoon of all people."

_Oh._

"Tyrion!" admonished Shae, "you can't just say it like that!"

Tyrion looked at her angrily. "But it's the truth! He has shacked up with Melara..."

Numb, stunned, and feeling immensely cold, Brienne hung up the phone. She didn't want to hear anymore. Both Tyrion and Shae turned around to look at her suddenly, and she was thankful she couldn't hear what they were saying. She just wanted to be alone with her thoughts and her heartbreak.

Cersei, of course, would not allow that.

"Why have you got a face like a slapped arse?" she asked when Brienne re-entered their cell. Not instantly responding, Brienne went to lie down on her bed, hoping that the intractable numbness would slowly freeze her so she would never have to feel anything again.

"Jaime's moved on," said Brienne in a tiny voice.

At that statement, Cersei looked as if she had just seen a pig wearing a tutu trying to do the can-can. "What?"

"Jaime's moved on," repeated Brienne, trying to keep the despair at bay. She wanted to process that grief first before airing it, but even so, there was something about having Jaime's twin here that just compelled Brienne to speak. "He's moved on... with Melara."

Looking horrified, Cersei shook her head, declaring, "well, it's confirmed. He's not a knobhead. He's an absolute dickhead."

Settling back into her pillows, Brienne just listened in silence as Cersei continued to lambast her brother for being _an absolute twat who doesn't appreciate what he's got. _If she had not been feeling so sad, Brienne would have laughed at the fact she was being comforted by Cersei of all people at her hour of need. There was something strangely soothing about the way Brienne's cellmate spoke, especially when she started swearing in French. Her cadence was like a song, strong and powerful and, set against the backdrop of Brienne's overwhelming sadness, it eventually lulled her to sleep.

In her dreams, Brienne was outside the house she shared with Jaime, violently knocking on the door. It only took a second for the door to swing open, hard and heavy, and on the other side was Melara Hetherspoon, a vindictive smile on her face. Knowing that she had no time for her and her silly games, Brienne pushed past her, determined to find Jaime. It did not take long because suddenly she was in her office at the station. Her love was there, holding a bunch of daffodils in his hands. They had always been her favourite.

"Wench," he said gently, his eyes glistening with tears. Jaime looked so tremendously sad and at the sight, Brienne found she couldn't stay away, even after what he had done. Running towards him, she wrapped him in her arms and held him close, carding her fingers through his hair.

"Shhhh, it's alright," she mumbled.

"No it's not," he cried, enfolding her in his arms. "I love you so much, Brienne. You know that, don't you? Deep down."

"Of course," she whispered. "I trust you. I love you. You are my world."

"I am yours and you are mine," he promised.

They stayed like that for a moment, entwined in each other, just kissing the pain away, until Jaime looked up at her. His voice was strange.

"Wake up."

Opening her eyes, Brienne realised it had all been a dream and that she was back in her dingy cell. Feeling a heavy weight on her shoulders, she went to push Cersei off her, not wanting to play silly games, but once her eyes came into focus, she saw she wasn't looking at her cellmate.

"Margaery?" said Brienne confusedly, looking at the vision before her. "Why are you wearing a fake moustache?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HIDING BECAUSE I KNOW THIS CHAPTER WILL HAVE BEEN CONTROVERSIAL!!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that! It was a tough one to write :( As ever, I luurrrvee comments and kudos, they make me a better writer!
> 
> Next chapter... Brienne discovers why Margaery is in her cell...


	22. Prison Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery and Pod attempt to break Brienne out of prison...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so my inbox blew up after the last chapter! Thank you to everyone who commented! It makes me so happy to know people are enjoying my story. I want to respond to everyone, but I am a little behind. Hopefully I will be able to reply to everyone tomorrow!
> 
> Okay, the last chapter was HEAVY. This one is a lot more light hearted I promise!

"Why am I wearing a fake moustache?" Margaery asked rhetorically, raising an eyebrow. When she didn't immediately answer her own question, Brienne inquired again.

"Yeah, why are you wearing a fake moustache?"

Margaery's grin grew wide. "Because this is a prison break."

Brienne blinked a couple of times, still a little bit dozy from sleep. "A prison break?"

"Yep," Margaery beamed, looking immensely proud of herself. "Me and Pod are here to get you out, because we've all had enough of this injustice." At the mention of the two-person rescue squad, Brienne looked across the cell to find Pod standing next to a huge wheelie laundry basket. When their eyes met, he gave her a little wave.

"Pod, have you got a fake nose on?"

Casterly's newest constable nodded. "We're in disguise. Head Warden Mord is being bribed, so we needed to take all the precautions we could."

Brienne's mouth dropped open. "Mord is being bribed? By who?"

"Who do you think?" asked Margaery, wrinkling her nose at the itchy fake moustache. "It rhymes with Belara Weatherspoon."

Even though she could believe such corruption of Melara, Brienne wanted to have faith in the justice system. "Really?"

Margaery nodded. "How do you think you ended up in the same prison as the Blonde Menace and the Insane Dragon Lady?"

Brienne shook her head in disbelief. "I thought it was bad luck. She can't surely be this all powerful? Melara is a person, not an evil mastermind."

Margaery gave her a sympathetic look, which was very funny with the moustache. "A person who has an _obsession _with your husband. She'll do whatever it takes."

"Ex-husband, the twat," came a harsh voice and Brienne sat up, realising that Cersei was awake. When Margaery fixed her with a furious look, Cersei smirked. "Tyrell, I know you've always struggled with upper lip hair, but I didn't realise you would let yourself go so much."

"Shut up, Blonde Menace," commanded Margaery, "about my lip hair _and _about the state of Jaime and Brienne's marriage. They're stronger than any lies you can spread about."

Brienne took in a big gulp of air in an effort to keep the tears at bay. "But Cersei's not lying. Jaime wants a divorce, and now... now he's with Melara."

Margaery suddenly looked horrified. "Who told you that?"

"Jaime," whined Brienne, finding it very difficult not to cry. "He came and visited me and told me he wanted a divorce. I didn't believe him..."

"Good," said Margaery authoritatively. "Don't believe him. It's a lie."

Brienne only felt very confused. "But then Tyrion told me that Jaime has shacked up with Melara! I don't think I could go back to Casterly if that was the case; I couldn't watch it, I couldn't...."

To Brienne's surprise, it was Pod who rolled his eyes with an uncharacteristic exasperation. "Why is everybody so bad at fricking communicating in our village? People: be precise with your words! Tyrion has no idea what is going on, because we thought it best to keep it to ourselves! Everything Jaime has been doing is all a part of our masterplan."

"Oh for fuck's sake," said Cersei wearily. "You're all such over-dramatic morons..."

"But if he's _living _with Melara," continued Brienne, now feeling more confused than sad, "how can he want to be with me?"

Margaery let out a little huff. "Look, this is not the best place to have this conversation, but here goes. Jaime has not _shacked up _with Melara. He's told her he will shack up with her once he's divorced you, and we spread it around town to keep up the pretence. That's why Tyrion said what he did; he just, perhaps, got the timing wrong."

Even if it was true, Brienne didn't find the new state of affairs very reassuring at all. "That's no better."

"Why? Jaime's not actually going to divorce you," said Margaery soothingly, giving Brienne a little smile from underneath her moustache. "After you told me about your theory about Melara, the team decided the best thing to do to get a confession out of her was to send him in as an undercover operative to persuade her to talk."

Even though Margaery's expression suggested that she thought Brienne should be happy about this, instead, she just saw red. If her interactions with Melara had proved anything, it was that she was desperate to be with Jaime no matter what it took. Why put him in the firing line? Fixing Margaery with an angry glare, Brienne growled, "have you honestly been pimping my husband out to Melara fucking Hetherspoon?"

Margaery shook her head, a little afraid of Brienne's reaction. "No! We just decided that maybe if Jaime just _implied _he wanted her she might be deranged enough to spill her guts. And... to be honest, it kinda worked. Even though he's been suffering from a fake cold sore condition for the past month in order to put off kissing her, and has said he's a born again Christian and doesn't want to compromise his morals with someone who isn't his wife to stop her putting her hands all over him, because she's so desperate for Jaime Lannister dick she's lapping it up."

"Can we please not talk about my brother's dick?" said Cersei wearily, but Margaery just continued to talk over her.

"Melara's already confessed to him she pushed Jeyne Farman down the well back in the day... to be honest, I think she thought it was flirting, so it's only a matter of time before she tells him what she's done to you_. _And when she does, he'll be there with his phone ready to record her confession."

The pieces of the puzzles were fitting together, and Brienne's heart was getting lighter with every word, but still she was not out of the woods. "But then why did he tell me he wants a divorce?"

"Melara told him she would only fully trust him if he asked you for a divorce," said Margaery, stepping forward and taking Brienne's hand. "He was just going to pretend to, but then Melara insisted on coming to the prison with him, and she was inside the control room with Mord as you had that conversation, listening to every word you both said. He doesn't want to divorce you. He loves you very much; I've had him round my house nearly every evening since you went to prison crying about how much he misses you. I think he was fed up of feeling powerless and wanted to do something constructive to save you; to him, the most important thing is that you are free, whatever it costs him. That's why he did what he did."

Suddenly, the words Jaime had said to her after her trial came back in a rush: _I will do anything in my power to see you free. Anything. You don't deserve this. You have only ever tried to do good and this is how you are rewarded? It is so unfair. I promise I won't rest until I find who did this to you and, if I have to, I'll kill them with my bare hands._

Her stomach sank like a stone, which was strange considering how relieved she felt. "That idiot," she mumbled, even a wave of affection for him overcame her. "That stupid idiot. Melara is a dangerous murderer and he's toying with her emotions for what? Me? Eventually she's going to notice he's not kissing her, whatever his excuses, and she's going to flip her fucking lid."

Margaery nodded in agreement. "That's why we need to get the evidence to convict Melara _fast. _So, you need to come with us now."

Brienne had been following up to that point in Margaery's explanation, but she could not quite put together why a prison break was good for her chances. "But surely this will just get us all into trouble we don't need? Isn't it better to leave me in here until you get the evidence to prove my innocence?"

"No," insisted Margaery, dropping Brienne's hand, "because Melara isn't the only one we have to break. We have to crack Aurane Waters too and, believe me, we're close, we're _so close, _because unlike Melara, he actually has a conscience. Therefore, we reckon that if he has to look you in the eye, the truth will all come spilling out of his stupid pouty mouth. And once Aurane admits he's in cahoots with Melara, it will be at least enough to get your case reconsidered, even if Jaime doesn't manage to get Melara to confess."

In the face of this utterly barking mad plan, Brienne shot a look at Cersei almost for a form of weird reassurance. Her sister-in-law smiled; she was a lover of the batshit after all. "Go, Plod. Just give my idiot of a brother a slap around the face from me when you see him, okay?"

"Don't call her Plod," began Margaery, her voice aggressive. "Nobody cares what you..."

Brienne held up a hand, causing Margaery to stop talking. "Don't worry. Cersei and I have some sort of... accord, don't we?"

"Yeah," agreed Cersei, giving Margaery a victorious look that would have worked well in _Mean Girls. _"Ever since you helped me take down the dragon bitch, Plod, we've been best buds."

Margaery and Pod just looked confused at that statement, so much so it took a few seconds for Margaery to find the words. "Just because you are claiming you and Brienne are _friends, _it doesn't mean we are going to help you escape."

Cersei's expression changed from victory to incredulity at what she believed was Margaery's moronic reasoning. "Why would I want to escape? To go back to Casterly and do what exactly? Redecorate Casterly Rock? No thanks! Here I am Queen Bee, what I've always wanted... and they're serving turkey twizzlers tomorrow. I wouldn't miss this for a world."

Even as Pod and Margaery exchanged a glance indicating they thought that Cersei Lannister had finally well and truly lost her marbles, Brienne smiled at her roommate, surprised at her need to thank Cersei for everything that had happened since they had become cellmates. "I'll call you when I'm out," she promised. "And... maybe I can convince Jaime to as well."

Cersei nodded, seemingly shocked at Brienne's offer to help her reconcile with her twin brother. "I'd like that."

_Was that a flicker of emotion in her eyes?_

"See you around then," said Brienne.

Cersei smirked, the way all the Lannisters did. "See you around, Plod."

With that, Cersei got to her feet, crossed the room and gave Brienne an awkward pat on the shoulder, before walking towards Brienne's bed and shaping a Brienne shaped lump under the covers. Margaery narrowed her eyes at her. "You are not going to sound the alarm the second we walk out of here, are you?"

Cersei rolled her eyes. "No, Margaery, because my father always had a saying, that is especially relevant after Plod helped me take down Daenerys."

"What's that?"

Flicking her long blonde hair over her shoulder, Cersei smiled prettily. "A Lannister always pays her debts."

At that, the Queen of King's Landing Ladies Prison crossed back to her own bed and got under the blankets, curling into a ball like she had on the first day Brienne arrived in the cell. With Cersei's silence assured, Margaery turned to Brienne and gave her a firm look. "Right, get in the laundry basket. We're going to get you out of here."

* * *

The two fake laundry service people - a heavily pregnant lady with a moustache and a man with a dodgy nose - wheeled Brienne all the way out of prison without anyone noticing. For once, Brienne was glad Mord was a corrupt, lazy bastard, as it clearly rubbed off on his staff, who didn't check the laundry basket as it exited King's Landing Ladies Prison. Shoved inside with a lot of laundry, Brienne closed her eyes and thought of Jaime.

_I'm coming, my love, _she thought. _If Melara thinks she can get her claws into you... she is very wrong._

Brienne had to try not to make any sound as the laundry basket was rolled up a little ramp, which jolted her around, before the sound of a door slamming made her jump. Feeling a little nervous, Brienne was surprised when she suddenly saw light above her and a hand reaching in to pull her out of the blackness. When she blinked to adjust herself to the brightness, Brienne realised she was in the back of a van, being stared at by the whole of the Casterly Constabulary. Robb, Robb, the Hound, Ilyn, Margaery, and Jon were all grinning at her, dressed to the nines in their uniforms. Even Joff looked happy to see her.

"Hello Chief," grunted the Hound. "Glad to see you are out."

"Glad to be out."

"We're not out _yet_," said Pod, getting into the driver's seat beside Robb Arryn. "But let me put this bad boy into first gear and we are off."

As Pod began to drive the van out of King's Landing Ladies Prison, Brienne looked around at them all, her team, and felt a rush of affection for them all. "You know, if this plan goes tits up, we could all go to prison."

Jon shrugged. "Sometimes, you've got to do what's right. You are one of us, Chief."

"The lone wolf dies while the pack survives," Robb Stark intoned wisely. "We couldn't leave you in there, not while _she _was back in Casterly reigning supreme."

Brienne felt herself stiffen at the mention of the she-wolf. "I hear that you geniuses all decided to convince my husband to lead on a psychotic murderer in the hope that she'd spill some beans."

The Casterly Constabularly all looked at each other shiftily, until Ilyn pointed a finger of blame at Margaery. She rolled her eyes. "Hey, look. I'm aware it perhaps wasn't the greatest plan in the world, but we had to do _something. _And Jaime is _so close _to breaking her... if he gets her confession, all this is over."

Brienne nodded, knowing that Jaime wasn't some stupid dupe in this. He wanted to save his wench, Brienne knew, and she had to trust that he knew where that line was.

_He's never given me a reason to doubt him before, _she thought.

"Okay," said Brienne, "but are we going to pick him up once we get back to Casterly?"

Robb Stark shook his head. "No, the plan is to go straight to Aurane. If we get a good enough confession out of him, perhaps Jaime can pull the plug on the whole Melara operation."

Instantly knowing that she would try her utmost to get something out of Aurane if it saved Jaime, Brienne nodded. "Okay, so what exactly is the plan?"

"We are just all going to rock up at his house and get him to talk, obviously we'll all be taking our batons," Margaery smiled, looking as proud as if this were a well thought out military stratagem. "But first, we better get you out of that bright orange jumpsuit and into something a little more appropriate. We don't want people spotting you the second we get back to Casterly."

Looking down at herself, Brienne found herself agreeing. She did look pretty conspicuous. "Have you brought something for me to change into?"

Margaery nodded and then went to search in a bag she had brought with her, which was a little difficult with the huge baby bump. However, she eventually found what she was looking for, and lifted the pile of clothes up, an amused smile on her face. It took Brienne a moment to realise what she was looking at.

"My biker chick outfit," said Brienne flabbergasted, staring at the over-the-top ridiculousness she had worn when taking down the NWA. "Why have you brought that of every single one of my outfits?"

"Because you are a badass," said Margaery, before giving her a knowing look. "And any way, I asked Jaime if you had any appropriate Aurane-slash-Melara arse-kicking attire and he went for this."

"But it's not his birthday, I only wear that on his birthday," said Brienne, irritated, before realising what had just come out of her mouth. "I mean... of course that's highly appropriate and I would be happy to wear it." Snatching it off Margaery, Brienne tried not to blush as all her colleagues looked highly amused. "Shut up."

"We didn't say anything," smirked Robb Stark.

Looking down at her clothes, Brienne suddenly realised she would have to change in the back of a van with all her colleagues watching. "And for fuck sake avert your eyes. This is embarrassing enough already."

"Yes, Chief," came the collective response from every single member of the Casterly Constabulary as they turned away, while Margaery pulled a sheet out of the Laundry basket to protect Brienne's modesty. Working quickly, Brienne changed quickly into the biker outfit - admitting quietly to herself that she looked fucking awesome - before turning back to her colleagues.

"Right, team meeting," she announced, as the Hound rolled his eyes. "I believe there is a very simple three point plan that we are going to follow."

"Which is?" asked Jon, looking genuinely perplexed.

"One," said Brienne, holding her hand up so she could count on her fingers, "we get Aurane Waters to confess he's working with Melara. Two, we go and take out that bitch and three..."

"Yes?" the team asked as one.

"Three. We go and save my total dipshit of a husband from his own stupid plan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that. Jaime would never cheat on Brienne, this is just all a very stupid masterplan. As ever, I love to know what you think of my story, so please consider leaving comments and kudos!
> 
> Next chapter... Brienne and the Casterly Constabulary go to see Aurane Waters...


	23. Kleptomania

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Casterly Constabulary go to talk to Aurane Waters...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for coming back! I am so thankful for every person who reads my story, and especially those who take the time to comment and leave kudos. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

After a long drive from the Pennines to Somerset, the Casterly Constabulary arrived back in the village around lunch time. Starving and agitated from their six hours as fugitives, once they pulled up in Casterly's High Street, Robb Stark took the opportunity to sneak out and buy some sandwiches from _Lannisters. _Returning to the van, he divvied them up, and Brienne was disappointed to find she had cheese and pickle. If she was back in prison, she could have been eating Cersei's beloved turkey twizzlers.

"So, what's the plan?" asked Robb Stark through mouthfuls of crayfish and rocket sandwich.

"We've just to keep a watch out for Aurane to make an appearance," said Margaery sagely. "And once we do, we tail him until we catch him alone... and then we POUNCE."

Although everyone was one hundred percent behind that plan, it turned out it took a long time for the team to execute an effective pounce, as, even though Pod drove the van in lazy circles around the village, the Constabulary had little luck finding Aurane. Around two o'clock, Brienne started to get very impatient; it was one thing to be locked in a newly refurbished Ladies Prison for months on end, quite another to be confined in the back of a slightly smelly van.

When they did not find Aurane for several hours, Brienne decided to make suggestion. "Why don't we go find Jaime? I've missed him. I really would like to speak to him. Then we can come back for Aurane." At her proposal, an uneasy glance was shared by the rest of the team that made Brienne narrow her eyes. "Why can't I talk to Jaime?"

All the men looked expectantly at Margaery, clearly thinking she was the best one to deliver the news. Letting out an exasperated huff at their cowardice, Margaery turned to Brienne and gave her a sympathetic smile. "We can't go and see Jaime because he's with Melara. He's convinced he's on the cusp of breaking her; at least, that's what he told the Group Chat. He's spending the day with her in Lannisport, before going back to hers this evening for a drink."

Brienne tried not to let her brain become dominated by thoughts that were variations on the main theme of _GET OFF HIM YOU HOMEWRECKING BITCH, _because she knew Jaime was doing it for good reasons. It was just that she worried about the extent of Melara's obsession with him and feared he may get hurt.

"Oh," said Brienne, "that's a shame."

"Well, hopefully he'll break her today. He's taken her on a long walk around Lannisport, so she'll be feeling tired and vulnerable to his charms."

Brienne gave Margaery a grumpy pout. "Only I should be tired and vulnerable to his charms," she insisted, keenly feeling her separation from Jaime.

Margaery smirked at poorly hidden jealousy. "Don't worry, Jaime's charms will be all for you again before long."

"Good," mused Brienne, taking the moment to think about her husband. "Because I've missed him so much. I haven't even touched him for months and months and months and _god _I just want to so much. When I see him, I just want to hold him and kiss him and..."

"Chief," interrupted the Hound, "please remember we are all trapped in the back of this van with you."

Brienne was glad it was a little dark, so they couldn't see her blush. "Oh. Sorry."

Luckily for her, at that moment her bacon was saved by Pod, who cried out, "I see him! Aurane! He's just coming out of _Biscuits for All Occasions!"_

In a moment, everyone in the back of the van was up on their feet, peering over the top of Pod's head to look at Aurane sauntering out of the biscuit shop, looking as if butter wouldn't melt. He gave a jaunty wave to both Masha Heddle and Asha Greyjoy as he walked past them, and then carried on making his way down the road.

"Smug bastard," growled the Hound. "There's a reason why I hate all pretty boys, they all think they're god's gift."

Margaery scoffed. "You're playing with fire there, Sandor. Brienne and I are great lovers of pretty boys; we'll defend their honour to the hilt."

"Hey," interjected Robb. "I'm not a pretty boy!"

"Didn't say you were," said Margaery, before giving him a saccharine smile.

In spite of her deep love for pretty boys - well, one pretty boy in particular - Brienne was not concentrating on that conversation but on the sight of Aurane Waters merrily going about his life.

_We're coming for you, Aurane, _she thought. _And then, it's Melara._

Although everyone was initially very excited by the sighting of Aurane, the team's thirst for vengeance was dampened somewhat when they had to stalk him around Casterly on the world's most boring shopping trip for the rest of the afternoon. After _Biscuits for All Occasions, _he went to the hat shop, where they watched him through the window trying on nearly every single hat in the place, before he went on to a coffee shop to drink tea and read a newspaper. The worst thing of all, however, was that it took _hours._And after making them wait and wait and_wait, _he then had the gall to go back to the hat shop.

"Oh for fuck's sake," grumbled the Hound, sitting back down in the van to feed Joff a biscuit. "This is a joke. How many hats does one man need to try on in a day?" While most of the rest of the team started grumbling in agreement, Brienne kept peering over Pod's head at Aurane. Pod too, had his eyes locked on the target.

And then it happened.

In a piece of magical jiggery-pokery, just as the shop assistant walked past him, Aurane swiped an expensive looking trilby off a stand, span it around in his hand for a moment, and then slipped it in his bag, all without anyone noticing. Once he had hidden his ill-gotten gains, he sauntered on out the shop without a care in the world.

"Did you just see that, Chief?" asked Pod, his mouth ajar.

Brienne nodded in astonishment. "Yep. I did. Aurane Waters is a thief!"

"What?" asked Robb Stark, his attention caught. "Did you just say Aurane is a thief?"

"Yes," replied Brienne. "Me and Pod just saw him steal a hat."

Robb Stark looked out of the window confusedly. "Why?"

"Fuck knows," replied Brienne, "but now we've got something else to get him on."

After that revelation, the world's slowest "man being stalked by van" chase restarted in earnest. With his stolen hat, Aurane dawdled home at such a slow pace that it was starting to get dark by the time he got back and began unlocking his front door. Hiding in the van around a corner, Pod parked so the Casterly Constabulary had a view of the house through the windscreen.

"What's the plan, Chief?" asked Jon as everyone turned to Brienne.

After taking a quick lie of the land, she said, "there's probably two exits. The front and the back. Margaery, the Hound, Pod, and I will go to the front door. Robb, Robb, Jon and Ilyn you go around the back. That way, once we knock on the front, if he tries to escape, we've got it covered."

The operation was put into motion in an instant. As the Casterly Constabulary had managed to mobilise so effectively during the murderous cult incident, they fell back into old habits, and were soon in perfect formation, cutting off any chance that Aurane had of fleeing.

"Are you ready to find out what's really going on?" asked Margaery.

Brienne nodded. "Yes. I'm tired of being in the dark."

Once everyone was in position, Brienne made her move and rang on the doorbell. From inside the house, she heard a shuffling of feet and a muffled "coming!", before the door swung open and Aurane Waters appeared in all his devilish blond glory, complete with a stolen trilby. When he saw who was waiting for him, his mouth dropped open.

"Inspector Lannister-Tarth?!?" he gawped.

Brienne had to stop herself snarling at him. "Hello Aurane. Can I come in for a _chat?"_

His grey-green eyes went wide for a moment and then he made his decision. Turning around, Aurane sprinted towards the back door, but, to his horror, once he opened it found the other half of the Constabulary waiting for him. Brienne, Margaery, the Hound, and Pod were already inside by the time Robb, Robb, Jon, and Ilyn had backed Aurane into the house.

He was well and truly trapped.

"You can't just break into my house!" Aurane declared. "Where is your Chief Inspector? Surely you need her permission."

"Our Chief Inspector is already here," snapped Robb Stark. "And her name is Brienne."

At that, Brienne gave him an uncharacteristic wave. She was gratified to find that Aurane looked more terrified than confrontational. "What do you want?"

"We want to talk," spat Margaery. "We saw you nick that hat earlier today so, if I were you, Aurane, I would be accommodating and answer our questions about your relationship with Melara Hetherspoon."

At the mention of her name, Aurane went a little pale. "I... I... I..."

"Come on, no stammering," said the Hound, giving him a shove. "Let's go and sit down in the lounge and you can spill all your secrets."

Knowing he was majorly outnumbered by eight police officers and a German Shepherd, Aurane nodded his head uneasily, clearly trying to find a way out. "Of course, but would you like some tea first?"

"No," insisted Brienne, thinking this was an attempt to distract and outwit them. "We don't want tea; we want the truth."

With that statement, Aurane conceded he only had a very bad hand to play so, without another word, led the team through to the lounge. Margaery let out a little gasp when she saw the state of it. Every spare foot of space was stuffed with _stuff;_Wedgewood Chairs, Queen Anne dressers, a giant rocking horse, an ornate cuckoo clock, and the entire mantlepiece was covered in expensive and flashy jewellery. Although it all dazzled, the most prominent of all was a sparkling brooch in the shape of a moose. Looking closer, Brienne suddenly recognised Orton Merryweather's signet ring sitting lazily at the centre. That wasn't the most outrageous item in the room, however.

"Hey!" cried Robb Stark pointing up at the wall. "What is my Thierry Henry shirt doing here?"

Aurane at least had the good grace to blush. "I may have a small... problem..."

"And what problem is that?" asked Margaery, picking up the brooch. "Wait a second, isn't this Donella Hornwood's missing brooch?"

At the same moment, Pod pointed out the window into the garden, "and that Orton Merryweather's boat!"

Everyone by the window turned to look and, sure enough, there was Orton's beloved _Golden Rose,_ standing quite conspicuously in Aurane's back garden. For Brienne, things slowly started to fall into place.

"Yes," conceded Aurane wearily, "and that is Jorah Mormont's cuckoo clock. I told you I had a problem."

"A problem?" said the Hound incredulously. "What? That you're a fucking thief?"

Aurane raised his eyebrows. "That's one way to put it, I suppose, but I've always preferred the term kleptomaniac. _Thief _sounds so terribly common, and the former term at least accounts for my insatiable need to have pretty things."

Brienne stared at Aurane, trying to put the pieces together. "Ever since you arrived in Casterly, you've been stealing things?"

When Aurane gave her a haughty expression and looked unwilling to answer, the Hound raised his baton. "We're already well into vigilante territory this evening. I will have no qualms in hitting the shit out of you unless you _speak."_

Aurane rolled his eyes. "Okay. Yes. I've been stealing from people, but it's just so fun! I've been doing it for years, ever since I lived in Birmingham; I can't resist the thrill of being able to take something right from under people's noses."

"You would consider yourself a professional, then?" asked Brienne.

Once again, Aurane looked reluctant to answer, but as the Hound started waving his baton about threateningly, he became less tongue-tied. "I suppose I am a professional cat burglar, yes. Melara caught me trying to steal a priceless Anglo-Saxon cup from the City Museum when we both lived in Birmingham, but, due to her influence, I was able to get a plea deal for dobbing in my partner in crime. As I was put into witness protection, I was allowed to move here. Aurane Velaryon became Aurane Waters."

That truth took a moment to settle, especially as it had odd implications about Melara's role in the birth of Aurane Waters. "Are you saying Melara _helped _you hide in this town?" asked Brienne incredulously.

"I wouldn't say helped, _no_," he said cautiously. "It's just, when Melara moved here, she was aware of my true identity. Being cunning, she took advantage of the fact she knew about my past and decided to make use of my skills."

"What does that mean?" asked Jon blankly, even though Brienne already had the answer.

"It means that Aurane was the one who stole the pufferfish from Lannis House," she said firmly, "and it was Aurane that planted the fish in my freezer to frame me. I'm also willing to bet it was Aurane that has been moving the fish around town for her, and him who came up with the plan of the fake bank account in my name in Panama."

Aurane gave her a strange bow of the head. There was no point in keeping secrets anymore. "I did, but not because I wanted any part in whatever silly game Melara Hetherspoon was playing. I just had no choice; if I didn't comply with what she wanted, she threatened to expose who I was to the entire village and that would have interrupted my ability to continue to steal."

Surprised by Aurane's prideful tone in his abilities, Brienne stared at the man for a moment, trying to work him out. His expression was open, his body language relaxed, which made her think she was telling the truth. Aurane had always made her feel strangely uneasy, but for the first time since she had known him, she thought she saw beneath his mask. Instantly, she knew she no longer felt threatened by him.

"You do know what Melara's game is, don't you?" Brienne asked, her voice icy.

Aurane shrugged. "I assume she murdered Senelle and Taena, but I don't know why. It was not my job to ask questions."

"Maybe you should have," barked Brienne suddenly, finding it difficult to control her temper, "because perhaps then two people wouldn't have died. And perhaps then my husband wouldn't have to be leading on that crazy bitch in the hope she'll confess to something."

Aurane raised one of his perfectly sculpted eyebrows. "Ah. Are you trying to tell me that all this is about Jaime Lannister?"

The mention of his name felt like a punch in the chest. "Yes, why?"

"It's just I'm not surprised," he said mildly. "From the few times Melara mentioned him to me, it was very clear she would burn down the whole world to get a chance with him. She even told me to drop hints to you that she and him were having an affair, in exchange for her silence on my true name."

Brienne's blood suddenly felt very cold. Thinking back to the night when she had accidentally stood up Jaime and had met Aurane out on her midnight walk, Brienne realised that Aurane's entire focus had been on Jaime and Melara with her. In the knowledge that he had some part in Melara's scheme to steal Jiame, Brienne knew she had had enough of Aurane.

"Aurane Waters," she said, quickly stealing the Hound's handcuffs from his belt. "I am arresting you on the suspicion of conspiracy to commit murder and of theft. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."

Aurane's eyes went very wide as Brienne slapped him in chains. "You can't do this! You are not a policewoman anymore! You're just an escaped prisoner!"

"Police _officer," _corrected Brienne for the millionth time in her life. "And it doesn't matter. This is a citizen's arrest."

Aurane worked his mouth for a few moments as Jon and Robb Arryn took him by the shoulders, ready to escort him out to the van. "Wait!" he cried. "I'll tell you anything you want to know about Melara. I'll make a plea deal! I'll testify against her in exchange for my freedom."

Although that thought made Brienne immensely happy - Aurane's crumbling was the first chink in Melara's armour after all - she still kept her face stern. "That's something to take up with your lawyers. Team, take him away."

And without another word, the whole of the Casterly Constabulary began bundling Aurane towards the door, happy at cracking their first nut of the evening.

... All except Robb Stark, of course, who was busy getting his Thierry Henry shirt off the wall.

* * *

With Aurane carefully loaded into the back of the van, the Casterly Constabulary (driven with reference to all road safety norms by Constable Podrick Payne) bombed over to the other side of the village to Melara Hetherspoon's flat. By the time they were halfway there, Margaery was already out for her blood.

"If there's going to be a cat fight," she declared, "I'll be one of the cats. I'll scratch her eyes out."

Robb Stark's eyes went wide. "I'd pay to see that."

"Shut up."

Partway across town, the Casterly Constabulary's phones all vibrated at once. Getting his out of his pocket, Robb Stark smiled. "It's a message from Jaime to the Group Chat. He says he's got a recording of Melara confessing to everything. He's sending it through now. We've won!"

At that, there was a hearty cheer from everyone, while Margaery threw her arms around Brienne. "He did it!" her best friend cried.

"He did," conceded Brienne, relief that Jaime could finally extricate himself from Melara once and for all almost overwhelming her.

"We'll head straight for Melara's," said Pod happily. "And once there, we can arrest her!" There was another cheer for that plan and Brienne felt so happy she was almost fit to burst.

_I'm going to get Jaime back, _she thought happily. _I'm going to be with Jaime again._

However, Brienne should have known things would not be so simple. When they arrived at Melara's flat, most of the team left Aurane in the back of the van with Ilyn and Robb Arryn and made their way to Melara's front door. The second she got close, Brienne thought it was eerily quiet. Nevertheless, that didn't deter Margaery, who marched up to the front door and knocked loudly.

There was nothing but silence.

She tried again.

More nothingness.

After a few more seconds passed, Robb Stark spoke. "There's no one in. It won't help if we keep knocking; look, all the lights are out."

"But how can that be?" asked Brienne confusedly. "He told you all he was here with Melara, didn't he?"

Pod nodded, getting out his phone. "Yeah... and after he sent the video confession, he's not said anything."

Brienne's heart started to beat quicker in fear, even as the Hound said, "maybe they've gone back to your house, Chief?"

"But that makes no sense," interjected Margaery. "Jaime _hates _Melara, why would he hang around with her longer than he needs to now he's got the confession? Why would he bring her to the house he shares with his wife?"

Brienne shook her head, "I don't know, maybe..." Then she saw it. Nestled amongst the flowers, was Jaime's prosthetic hand. "Oh my god," she said, kneeling down to pick it up, cradling it in her arms.

"What's that?" asked Robb Arryn, as Brienne got to her feet, suddenly panicked.

"It's Jaime's prosthetic hand," she replied, trying (and failing) to keep the quiver of fear out of her voice.

Margaery stepped forward and rubbed Brienne's shoulder consolingly. "Maybe he just dropped it."

When Brienne blinked, tears started to fall, unbidden, down her cheeks. "When have any of you seen him without his prosthetic hand?" she asked her colleagues, turning to each of them one at a time. As she expected, she was met with a line of blank expressions. "_Exactly. _Jaime hates taking this off. He's so self-conscious about his stump; he even still has problems removing his prosthetic in front of _me _sometimes."

Jon narrowed his eyes. "Then what is it doing _here?_"

"I don't know," said Brienne fearfully, "but he wouldn't abandon it willingly. She must have done something, she must..."

"Brienne, take a deep breath," commanded Margaery. "You're panicking, and that won't help anyone. We've got to keep a level head and work out where they might be."

"But how can I not panic?" Brienne cried, grasping at the prosthetic for a bit of comfort. "A psycho murderer has Jaime! And she's been obsessed with him for years! Who knows what she will do!"

"Well, that's why we are going to stop her," said the Hound forcefully, "just like we stopped Tywin, Cersei, and their murderous cult. We just have to think. Where would they go?"

Clutching Jaime's prosthetic hand to her chest, Brienne looked up at the sky. It was a beautiful night full of thousands of stars and the moon was round and large in the heavens. She wondered if he had been able to see it as he left Melara's house, or whether he was blind to the silvery light of the full moon because he was hurt... because...

_Jaime will say he loves you under the full moon at Casterly Rock and it will be the happiest day of your life, little one, but there will be another, who he will love more. You will smell her breath. She will be close..._

The answer came in a flash. "I know where Melara has taken him."

"Where?" asked Margaery, her eyes betraying her hope.

"Where her psychic advisor told her to, of course," said Brienne, putting herself in Melara's shoes. "They've gone to Casterly Rock."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... yes... Aurane was always the thief because he is in the books; in fact, Orton's speedboat, the Golden Rose, is named after one of the ships Aurane steals off Cersei in the books!
> 
> Now, the next chapter might take slightly longer than usual (because it's a bit of a curveball), but I hope you enjoy it once I get it to you. As ever, I luurrve hearing from you via comments and kudos, so please consider leaving them!
> 
> Next chapter... the events of the last few months from a whole different perspective...


	24. The Undercover Operative: Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All things considered, 2022 had been a shitty year for Jaime Lannister-Tarth...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this chapter is finally here! It would have taken even longer, but I decided to split it in half, so expect part two next time. It is, of course, the long awaited Jaime POV, so I hope you enjoy! As ever, I'd love to hear from you in the form of comment or kudos!

All things considered, 2022 had been a shitty year for Jaime Lannister-Tarth.

Even though he had welcomed in the new year by making erotically charged photography with his wench and had _finally _convinced her to have sex with him in the police car, come February, he was having to watch Brienne crying in a bathtub about her inability to get pregnant.

It sucked.

Slipping into the bath behind her, Jaime wrapped himself around her, wanting her to feel that he was with her and none of it mattered to him. Apart from her. Only her. And if she couldn't give him children, so damn what? She was family enough.

"Tell me what's wrong," he requested gently, nuzzling her shoulder with his nose, hoping that if he asked her how she was feeling Brienne would open up a little.

"Everything that Doctor Marwyn told me," she replied, the tears bubbling beneath the surface of her voice. "I'm going to struggle to have kids."

Brienne had always had such high standards that, whenever she was less than perfect, she blamed herself. Hiding behind well-built psychological wall had been a problem for Brienne during what Jaime jokingly referred to as their _courtship, _but ever since they had been together, she had been working hard at opening up and not being so self-critical. Therefore, Jaime was a little scared that this issue would be big enough for Brienne to fall back on old habits and make her pull up the drawbridge, shutting him out of what was, essentially, a joint problem. He tried to counter her way of thinking. "No, _we're _going to struggle to have kids."

"Oh yeah," retorted Brienne, an edge of bitterness to her voice. "You with your super high sperm count."

Although he could tell she was getting resentful at him, in truth Jaime knew that Brienne would be more disappointed with herself than she ever could be with him, so he gave her a gentle kiss on the neck to bring her back to the present. "Doesn't matter. I'm only trying for a baby with you, so it's still _we. We _are going to struggle to have kids, and we'll get through it. Doctor Marwyn said it would be hard, not impossible."

Jaime could feel Brienne's body trembling with the force of her tears, and it made his chest ache. "But what if I fail?" she cried. "What if I can't give you a baby?"

Scooping both his arms around her waist, Jaime held her close. Ever since they had been together, Brienne had been doing so well with managing her insecurities and not letting them affect her life with him, but he feared something as big as this would totally derail her. Consequently, he tried to soothe her. "That's not failure. That's just a thing that's happened. You can't be perfect in every area of your life, Brienne, and, all things considered, I think you are pretty damn perfect just the way you are."

It was a sincere opinion, ardently felt, but he could tell by the tone of her voice that Brienne struggled to believe it in the face of her supposed failure. Although they talked some more and Jaime told her he did not want children with anyone but her, he could tell that she was still struggling to believe him.

Therefore, he tried to tell her with his body instead, with his kisses, caresses, and _god _his achingly painful erection born of how much he wanted her. He hoped it worked.

* * *

When Brienne approached him with the Baby Making Spreadsheet, Jaime had to conclude that it did. At least she was channelling her upset into something productive, so he decided to go with it.

_More sex with my wench is no bad thing, _he thought wickedly as he perused their packed schedule.

However, what he wasn't accounting for was the change in the type of sex they would have. Normally, there was so much kissing that Jaime found it difficult to come up for air, but suddenly he found Brienne was all about penetration, penetration, penetration. Jaime was a little disappointed by that, as just as he nudged her legs apart with his shoulders, his lips inches from the place he loved kissing her, she commanded him to stop.

He looked up at her, confused. "What's the matter?"

"We don't have time for that."

As she had specifically woken him up for sex, Jaime found that stance a little perplexing. "But it's five in the morning."

"Still doesn't mean we have time for that."

_I'll win you around, wench, _he thought. _I always do._

"But," he purred, pausing to kiss the top of her thighs. "You... taste... so... good..."

To his surprise, she looked a little cross. "No. This is not the point. You've got to get inside me. That's how babies are conceived."

Feeling a little irritated, Jaime crawled up the bed to lie beside her. "I'm aware, but don't we need a bit of warming up first?"

Brienne's answer to that was to rub his cock a few times until he was fully erect, and then announce, "there, now come on. Hurry up. We've got a schedule to keep."

And then she didn't even want to cuddle afterwards.

At work that morning, Brienne put Jaime in charge of liaising with Edd the repairman about the broken radios in the police cars. Even though Brienne classified it as a _very serious issue, _Jaime thought it was more funny than anything else. Yes, their colleagues (and Brienne) were mortified at the sound of sex noises coming out of the radios, but Jaime was so happy to be in a relationship where he could be unashamedly affectionate that he almost didn't care. As he had spent most of his twenties sneaking around hiding his feelings for Taena from Orton, Jaime had concluded that being in love with Brienne so _loudly _was a badge of honour.

Even so, he talked Edd through exactly what Brienne thought the fatal flaw with the radios was and then went up to the staffroom to meet the new sergeant. He was mildly surprised to find that it was Melara Hetherspoon, who he mostly remembered for being one of Cersei's most bitchy childhood friends and for an ill-advised _terrible _kiss when they were drunk in a cupboard when they were seventeen. He wondered whether Melara even remembered it.

"Jaime? I didn't know you worked here?" she smiled.

As she trotted towards him, he replied, "yeah, for ages. I'm a sergeant. What are you doing here?"

"It's my first day!"

After a brief catch up of what they had been up to in the fifteen-odd years since they had last seen each other - including the fate of his sister Cersei - Melara said, "oh, that's a shame. I would have liked to see her again. But... nevermind. It will just have to be you and me. I would love to have a chat and know how the last twenty years have been for Jaime Lannister."

"Actually, I think Brienne has arranged for me to be your new partner," Jaime said casually. "Isn't that right, Brienne?"

To his surprise, his wench looked at him a little crossly before saying, "something like that."

Concerned about what could have caused her bad mood, Jaime went to speak to Brienne, but Melara interrupted. "Oh, how brilliant! It will give us all the time in the world to catch up. My psychic advisor told me I would have an important reunion this week - I just never thought it would be _you."_

Jaime laughed at that comment, thinking psychic advisors were ridiculous, so he joked, "well, maybe it was written in the stars."

Melara looked up at him with big eyes, and Jaime could only note how almost comically small she was, as she put one of her cold hands on his arm. "Yes, _written in the stars. _Now, why don't you show me our police car?"

* * *

At the end of the day, Jaime felt contractually obliged to take his new partner out for a drink at _The Inn at the Crossroads_, but he let Brienne know before he went what he was planning.

Even so, he thought his wench looked a little pale as she said, "okay, I think Margaery and I are popping out anyway."

Thinking she had been in a bit of a grumpy mood all day, Jaime tried to cheer her up. "Great. When we get home though, I would like to finish what we started this morning."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "What's that exactly?"

Without even consciously deciding to, Jaime dropped his voice to that quiet, warm, intimate timbre that he only ever used with her. "Well, you said we didn't have time for me to eat you out, and that's all I've been thinking about all day."

"You sex fiend," Brienne joked even as she blushed, telling him that she wanted it just as much as him.

"I know it's just... I want to do something that's just for us, not because it's been dictated by the spreadsheet."

Brienne smiled at him, and he felt his stomach do that stupid flip that only she could elicit from him, even after three years. "Of course. I'd love to."

While at the pub with his new partner, Jaime had to try his hardest to concentrate on whatever the hell Melara was twittering on about and not think of going home and spreading his wench's thighs apart, kissing her, licking her, and sucking her until she screamed his name and came on his face. He was getting so damn _agitated _by the thought, that when Brienne messaged him asking if he wanted to eat a microwave meal when he got home, he had to seriously resist replying with something obscenely dirty so he could at least _pretend _he was caring about what Melara was talking about.

"I think we knew each other quite well, back in the day," she smiled, leaning close.

"Do you?" he smirked, taking a sip of his beer.

"Well," she said, raising her eyebrows at him, "I do at least remember one time when you had your hands all over me."

That made Jaime laugh. "Oh god, don't remind me. If I recall, I just attacked you with my tongue because I had no fucking clue what I was doing."

Melara recoiled slightly, "I don't remember it like that."

"No?" Jaime smirked. "How do you remember it then?"

She shrugged. "I just remember being very disappointed you didn't take me up on my offer of doing it again but with less clothes."

Jaime outright laughed at that. "Oh, poor you. Didn't we have such wacky ideas back in the day?"

Melara gave him a tight smile in response.

In the end, it took Jaime a long time to convince Melara to leave the pub and he only succeeded in doing that by persuading her to go on a tour of the village with him. In actuality, it was all an excuse to get away from Melara's never ending reminiscing and back home. After taking her to a couple of key places, they eventually ended up at his house and, although he knew the gentlemanly thing to do would be to walk her home, in truth he was tired and wanted to see Brienne.

"I had such a great night, Jaime," said Melara, gazing up at him with those big dark eyes of hers. "Thank you for being such an amazing tour guide."

Wanting to be polite, he said, "my pleasure, we'll have to do it again sometime."

"Oh yes!" grinned Melara. "Maybe you can show me Casterly Rock too! We could go there to relive the good old days."

Not thinking particularly he had had many good days at Casterly Rock, Jaime said, "sounds good. I'll see you at work."

He went to turn away, but Melara pulled him back. "Don't I get a hug? We are old friends?" Even though he wanted to go back inside, Jaime obliged her and pulled her in for a quick hug. When she was pressed against his chest, she giggled, "we should do this again but with less clothes."

Pushing her away, he looked at her confusedly. "Why did you say that?"

Melara laughed and waved at him dismissively, indicating that she was joking. "Oh, for old times' sake."

* * *

Then, after that, Jaime thought things just got _weird_.

There was the time in the pub where Brienne slapped his thigh and made him beg for sex. He had obliged her, intrigued that she wanted to try something new, but when she got home, she just slammed him down on the floor and just _took _him in a way that was super-hot but also a bit terrifying. Once they had finished, Brienne had locked herself in the bathroom and refused to talk to him properly, not even when they were in bed together and he asked if he could be Little Spoon. Instead of her normal instant acquiescence, Brienne just gave him the cold shoulder and forced him to cuddle her instead. Even though he had his arms around her, Jaime felt strangely lonely and distant from her.

He noticed it again when they had all been eating cupcakes in the station, and Brienne had come marching in looking like an angry warrior goddess, stuck her tongue down his throat and then declared without an ounce of shame that when he got home, he would be eating something much more to his taste than a chocolate cupcake. She didn't quite keep her promise, because when they did arrive home, her need to aggressively dominate him led to her sucking him off and then leaving him alone with a mess to clean up. It was so unlike her that Jaime started to get a little concerned about what was going on and kept trying to find ways to persuade her to talk to him.

She remained silent.

In her unwillingness to talk to him, Jaime had to find outlets for his confusion, and to his surprise, Melara was only too happy to listen to his problems while they were on patrol.

"You're a woman..." he began.

Melara let out a little huff. "Thanks for noticing, lion cub."

"Then can you explain to me something?" he asked. "My wench is being grumpy and off with me recently, and I have no idea why."

Strangely, Melara gave him a big smile. "Oh, is she? Maybe something is upsetting her. Do you have any idea what it could be?"

It didn't take long for Jaime to think about it. "Well... we recently got told that we will struggle having children, and it would be like Brienne if she was blaming herself."

"Why?" asked Melara, her dark eyes wide. "Is it her fault?"

Jaime shook his head vehemently. "No, of course not! Just because Doctor Marwyn said that she had a little bit of scarring, it doesn't mean it's her _fault_. I don't think it's her fault anyway; we are in this together."

"You’re not in this together, though, are you?" said Melara innocently. "You've always struck me as being impressively... virile. Maybe she feels threatened by that, or perhaps a little resentful that you can have everything she can't give you. Maybe she's jealous. Maybe it would be better off for you to go and be with someone else who could give you children."

Melara's suggestion was so absurd Jaime laughed. "No. If Brienne can't give me children, I won't have children. I wouldn't leave her for the world; it's just that I want to make her feel better about all this, and I have no idea how. You're a woman, what would you want from me if I was your husband and you were going through something like that?"

Raising an eyebrow, Melara leant forward, putting a hand on his shoulder. "If you were my husband, I would think you were quite enough and wouldn't look for anything else. But perhaps Brienne is selfish, demanding, and doesn't really care about your needs."

"She does care," insisted Jaime, smiling at the thought of his wench. "When she's not struggling, she's so kind and affectionate, I've never known anything like it. She looks after me and looks out for me, and I know nobody is perfect, but she makes me believe that being good and caring about ideals greater than oneself are what life is all about."

Melara furrowed her eyebrows at him. "I feel like we are talking about different people."

"Why?" asked Jaime curiously.

Melara shrugged. "Because I only see a woman who takes advantage of you and uses you in whatever way she can, which seems likely considering she makes you fight for scraps of her affection."

After that, Jaime didn't talk to Melara about Brienne as she was so unbelievably wrong about her, they almost couldn't have a sensible conversation. Yet, even so, he couldn't quite let Melara's accusation go.

_Because I only see a woman who takes advantage of you and uses you in whatever way she can, which seems likely considering she makes you fight for scraps of her affection..._

The problem reached its peak at Orton Merryweather's party, when a cross looking Brienne had dragged him into a small office demanding that he fuck her. As he suspected her general distance from him was _something _to do with the whole having a baby issue, Jaime went along with it because he wanted her to know that he was supportive of her. He often wondered why someone as wonderful as her was with him, anyway, so he tried to make her happy where he could.

Wanting to feel close to her, Jaime began by brushing a strand of straw blond hair out of her face, revealing her beautiful blue eyes. Lost in the colour, he suddenly felt the compulsion to tell her what he saw. "So beautiful," he mumbled, as he kissed her cheeks, her forehead, her eyelids, her nose, while drawing a line down her neck with one careful finger. He would show her that they could try for a baby without being so cold to one another, that sex wasn't just a mechanical process but about expressing their love...

"Jaime, can you please just hurry up and stop wasting time! I'm not here for you to kiss, I'm here for you to _fuck._"

It would have perhaps hurt less if she had hit him. Even though she was right in front of him, baring her body to him, Jaime had never felt more distant from his wench since the time she called him a liar for saying he loved her. Wanting her back, he grasped her hand, holding it against his chest. "Brienne, what have I done? Whatever it is, just _tell _me and I'll make it right."

To his amazement, Brienne looked surprised. "What makes you think you've _done _anything?"

He looked down at her hand that was splayed across his chest, just over where his heart was, and tried to explain. "You want to fuck me, but you don't want to hold my hand. You don't want me to kiss you. You don't want to hold me while we are sleeping. You won't run your fingers through my hair or even make jokes with me. I _love _all that Brienne. To be honest, it means more to me than the sex. What have I done to make you stop wanting that? Why don't you want me?"

To Jaime's immense relief, Brienne suddenly looked very sad, sorry, and guilty. "Jaime, it's not that. It's just ever since Melara..."

Unfortunately, they were then interrupted by an anti-capitalist protest.

* * *

When they got home, Jaime thought he was in for another night of loneliness and distance, but to his surprise, Brienne saved everything. She apologised, told him she loved him and that she _did _want to talk, just not yet. Although it wasn't everything he was looking for, Jaime thought it was enough that she took him to bed and held him, making him feel treasured. Then they made promises that they would talk, later, at a pretentious French restaurant in Lannisport.

_Okay, wench, _he thought, _I'll wait. If you need time, I'll wait._

Even though he spent the day with Tommen and Myrcella, Jaime found his thoughts were occupied by Brienne. He spent his time thinking about how best to get her to open up. Listening seriously? Jokes? Kisses? At 5.30, he couldn't wait anymore and messaged her.

_Jaime: _Looking forward to seeing you later, wench. I've been missing you all day xxx

He arrived at the restaurant a little earlier than their agreed time, but luckily the table was already available.

"Je m'appelle Hildy, and I will be your server for this evening. Would you like me to take you to your table?" said the dark-headed waitress who greeted him.

"Yes please," Jaime smiled. "I might as well get comfortable."

After choosing a table by the window, Jaime looked up at Hildy, who was smiling at him. "Flying solo tonight are we, sir?"

"No, I am meeting my wife for a date. She should be here soon."

"Just my luck," Hildy laughed, "all the handsome ones are taken. Would you like me to get you a bottle of wine to make her feel special?"

Jaime eventually picked a bottle of red from the menu - it was a bit expensive, but he thought there should be no expense spared this evening - and then Hildy asked if he was ready to order food.

"No, that's alright, I'll wait for my wife."

By the time Hildy came back with the wine, it was 7.40, meaning Brienne was ten minutes late. As she hadn't responded to his earlier message, Jaime poured himself a glass of wine and then messaged Brienne again.

_Jaime: _Hey, are you on your way? xxx

Twenty minutes later, after he'd finished his glass of wine, Hildy came over to look at him consolingly. "You sure I can't get you an appetizer while you wait?"

"No, don't worry, she'll be here soon."

_Soon _turned out to be a very long time indeed. By the time he had finished the whole bottle of wine himself, he had called her about ten times and messaged her what felt like a further fifty. He gave up at nine o'clock, when Hildy came over with the bill.

"I hate to say this, but I think you've been stood up."

Jaime sighed, putting his phone in his pocket. He didn't understand; Brienne had been so sincere about wanting to talk, and he felt they _needed _to talk. He didn't want to spend more time with her shutting him out; this infertility issue was _huge, _and if she just let him explain, Jaime would tell her that he was here for her and would support her in whatever she needed.

_But perhaps Melara was right, _he thought anxiously, _perhaps she does expect me to fight for her affections..._

"I think you are right," said Jaime sadly. "My wife isn't coming."

Hildy cocked an eyebrow at him. "Well, if you're feeling a little lonely, you can always come home with me."

Jaime _did _feel lonely, but he just wanted Brienne, so he went home in search of her. Feeling a little drunk and sad, he set himself up by the front door in a chair and waited for her.

And waited.

And waited.

She eventually arrived at just before eleven, a sorrowful look on her face. Any other time, he would have asked her what was wrong, but he felt so damn hurt that his response was just raw anger.

"What time do you call this?"

Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed as Brienne said, "oh shit."

"Yeah," Jaime replied icily. "Oh shit."

Of course she begged, apologised, and said she was sorry while he ranted and raved, but Jaime almost wanted her to be quiet and listen. For weeks, her muted silences had been a loud as if she were yelling at him, and now she wouldn't even give him one night where she could explain to him what was going on. That shit _hurt._

"I can see you're upset and angry right now," Brienne said gently, being infuriatingly understanding, "and I am really _sorry. _I shouldn't have stood you up, and if you need some time to have me not in your face, I totally understand. If you want to cool off, I get that. Even if you want to have some hate sex, that's perfectly okay too. Whatever you need from me right now, I will do, because I love you and I want to make it right and show you I'm sorry."

_I don't want your apologies, _thought Jaime sadly. _I just want you to talk to me, and in doing so, show me you care._

Eventually, it was decided that, to give him time to cool off, Brienne would go for a walk. In her absence, Jaime just felt tired and angry so, after a shower, he changed into his pyjamas and got into bed. He had just overcome his fury enough to be begin to doze off when his phone rang; it was Melara.

"Hello?" he asked, confused. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice breathy with sympathy. "I'm phoning to ask if _you _are alright?"

He suddenly felt a little defensive. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's only that I just saw Brienne marching through town looking _enraged. _I was worried she had hurt you."

Jaime found himself laughing at that suggestion. "Why would she hurt me? We've just had a row, that's all."

"Still..." said Melara gently. "I'm worried about you."

"Well you don't need to be," he said firmly, not liking it that Melara was making assumptions about him and Brienne. "Goodnight."

That he was a little grumpy about the way Melara had spoken about Brienne made him feel a little softer towards his wife once she returned home, especially when she climbed into bed beside him and started nuzzling his shoulder.

"I know you're awake," she whispered, her voice gentle.

"No, I'm not," he replied huffily, keeping his eyes closed. "And I'm still really cross with you."

"I know you are, and I know I deserve it," she said, running her fingers through his chest hair in the way that made his heart flutter. "I'm sorry."

She slowly pressed her lips to his neck, making him shiver. "Don't do that. I won't be angry with you if you do that."

To his delight, Brienne ignored him and kissed him again. "I'm sorry..."

"Brienne..."

Knowing this would persuade him, Brienne aimed for the soft patch of skin behind his ear, sucking him gently. In spite of himself, Jaime let out a quiet little moan to spur her on.

"I'm sorry," she said again sincerely, kissing him again and again, until she had tempted him to face her and kiss her fully.

She broke away looked at him deeply with her big, soul-searching eyes. "Do you want to have hate sex?"

"No," he replied honestly, "because I could never hate you."

Her smile was so beautiful that Jaime felt all warm and fuzzy inside. "What about _I'm really, really sorry Jaime sex."_

"That might be nice," he breathed.

And, of course, it was.

* * *

After the make-up sex, Jaime thought things got better; not _perfect, _just better. It was clear that Brienne was still keeping something back from him, but at least she wasn't being purposefully cold. They kissed and had more sex, and she promised him she would get back in contact with Doctor Aemon and find a way to get whatever was bothering her off her chest. For Jaime, it was enough that she was making an effort to do something about whatever mental block she was having, so he decided to let things lie.

That's why he found it so surprising when, the Sunday after Robb and Margaery's party, Jaime came home from helping Tyrion move some furniture to find Brienne waiting for him with tea and biscuits, gazing at him with those impossibly blue eyes.

"I made you tea. Why don't you come and drink it with me?"

Even though it was an offer he would never refuse, that Brienne looked a little uneasy made him worried. Once he was sat down beside her, he asked, "what's going on?"

Noticing the way she straightened her back, Jaime could tell that Brienne was trying to find the strength. "I promised you that we would talk, and I've been... slow at fulfilling that promise."

Jaime's heart started beating faster at the prospect of _talking_. After weeks of waiting, was she finally going to relieve him. "Are we going to talk now?"

"Yes," she stammered, "if... if... you want to."

He couldn't help but smile. "Of course I want to talk. That's all I want."

"Good," she replied, blushing. On the precipice of talking, she stalls once more, so Jaime reaches out to her.

"So, what's been going on, Brienne?"

She looked at him so deeply it hurt, her eyes as blue and endless as the summer sky.

"We need to talk about Melara."

* * *

Once Brienne had mentioned it, Jaime saw it; the way Melara looked at him, the way she touched her hair when he was near, the way she reached out to him, the hunger in her eyes. Jaime didn;t give a second thought to shutting her down; he was Brienne's man, in every sense of the word, and hated the fact that he had been such an unwilling dupe in Melara's games to upset his wench. Even as the polite respect he had for his partner turned into an uneasy distrust, he believed the polite brush off would be enough to deter her.

Well, he did until the night at _The Inn at the Crossroads _when Melara totally lost her mind.

"It's not my fault that Brienne is jealous of me," the new sergeant hissed, looking at Brienne dismissively.

"Jealous of you?" scoffed his fierce, brave wench. "Why on earth would I be jealous of you?"

Melara's smile was sickly sweet. "Because it is very clear that Jaime and I have a mutual sexual attraction, and it is only a matter of time before he does something about it."

That was news to Jaime. "We _do not _have a mutual sexual attraction," he insisted, the uneasy distrust morphing into an intense dislike. "At most I respect you as a colleague, nothing more. I love my wench. I love Brienne. I am _married _to Brienne. That's how I intend to stay for the rest of my life."

Melara looked horrified. "But..."

"No!" spat Jaime, suddenly angry that she wouldn't respect how in love with his wife he was. "To be honest, I had respect for you until the moment Brienne told me what you said to her at Robb and Margaery's party. I think it was low, beneath you and pretty disgusting."

Melara's face went very pale as she got to her feet, staring at him desperately. "But we _do _fancy each other, Jaime. We have since we were teenagers. Don't you remember that time in the cupboard in Casterly Rock? It was _magical!"_

_No it wasn't, _thought Jaime. _It made me feel dirty and lonely and weird._

Getting to his feet himself, Jaime said exasperatedly, "Melara, we were seventeen and it was a game of truth or dare orchestrated by my crazy sister."

"But it was seven minutes in _heaven, _Jaime," she cried, as if truly believed it. "It was practically star-crossed."

Fed up with Melara's delusions, Jaime set out to embarrass her. "From what I remember, you told me that I was really sexy and then asked me to bite you. I was really weirded out by the whole thing and that was why I did not take you up on your offer of doing it again but with less clothes."

With the whole pub now staring at her, Margaery made a bitchy comment that pushed Melara over the edge. "There is no wrong tree with Jaime and I!" she shouted; her eyes manic. "I _know _we are meant to be, and he knows it too, deep down..."

Then Brienne was on her feet making physical threats - which Jaime found weirdly hot - and Margaery was threatening to bitchslap Melara to next Christmas. Suddenly, other members of the team were trying to calm everyone down, but neither Brienne or Melara were having any of it.

"From day one Melara has been trying to undermine me!" said Brienne firmly, her eyes filled with triumph, "all in the aim of splitting Jaime and I up. You know at one point she tried to make me believe that he was cheating on me with her?"

Melara looked at Brienne as if she were something filthy on the bottom of her shoe. "As I said, it's only a matter of time. Why would any man want an ugly bitch like you over me?"

If Jaime had been trying to hold himself back up to that point, that Melara dared to insult Brienne, his wench, pushed him right over the edge. "What did you just call her?" he asked, his voice icy in his cold fury.

"I called her an ugly bitch," retorted Melara angrily, "because that's what she is. I can't understand for the life of me why you spend your time fucking _that _when you've got something better right here."

Jaime would have laughed at Melara's crazy beliefs if it wasn't so serious. "You're delusional," he hissed, "delusion and jealous, and I can't continue to work with you when you say such horrible things about and to my wench."

At that word - _wench _\- Melara's eyes suddenly went very soft, and she reached out towards him. "_I _could be your wench, Jaime. I know I could..."

Seeing her weird obsession with their own eyes, the Hound and Jon both stepped in to make a defence of Jaime and Brienne's relationship but, even so, Jaime still saw something terrible when he looked at Melara. In her brush off of the significance of Brienne in his life, Melara repeated her delusions about how much Jaime _wanted _her. "As long as I am here, working as part of the team, I will be too tempting for him to resist."

Even though Jaime wanted to deal with that claim by screaming, Brienne took the high road. "Then I think it's very clear what must happen. I will arrange for you to be transferred to a different precinct. Although you are a good officer Melara, the Casterly Constabulary is what it is because we work together as a team and we can't have someone who is trying to undermine that harmony."

Melara looked at Brienne with such hatred that Jaime thought she would attack her. "Who do you think you are? You can't just sack me because you're jealous of me!"

"I'm your boss," Brienne replied levelly, "and I wouldn't be transferring you for that. It would be because you have upset several members of the team."

Jaime hoped that would cut through to Melara, however, at that very understandable explanation, she totally lost her shit. "You ugly bitch! You utter tramp! You homewrecker! You..."

She was only prevented from continuing her loopy spiel against Brienne by the Hound and Pod, who managed to succeed in dragging her from the pub. Even so, Melara could not resist but have the last word, and the venom with which it was delivered chilled Jaime to the bone.

"Remember what I said, Brienne!" she shouted. "There's a fundamental difference between you and me! Never forget that!"

* * *

It was Brienne that explained the difference to him - that Melara was willing to cheat where she was not - and Jaime had to hide how much that scared him. Wanting to comfort her, Jaime made love to his wife when they got home, wanting her to know that he was entirely hers, even though internally he felt contorted with fear. His terror only intensified once Pod was poisoned. It was not that he thought Brienne would be the next target, but he was scared of what Melara would descend to; would it be violence?

Even though he spent the next few days telling himself not to be so ridiculous, in the end, Jaime realised that he was right to be worried. Melara _did _go after Brienne, by framing her for a crime she didn't commit, and then making sure she was locked up for life. How intensely unfair it all was nearly broke Jaime's heart in two.

After the sentencing, he kissed Brienne and held her close, because he could barely stand to see the shock and fear in her eyes. "I will do anything in my power to see you free," Jaime promised her ardently, putting all his love and devotion into his words. "_Anything. _You don't deserve this. You have only ever tried to do good and this is how you are rewarded? It is so unfair. I promise I won't rest until I find who did this to you and, if I have to, I'll kill them with my bare hands."

In yet another demonstration of how immensely good she was, Brienne tried to comfort _him, _even though it was her that was facing a life in jail. "Jaime, I love you so much. I don't want you to ruin your life over this."

"Brienne," he sobbed, trying and failing to be her rock. "I wouldn't be ruining my life, because what is my life without you?"

She fixed him with a smile that belonged to an angel. "It is entirely _yours, _Jaime, yours to do what you want with."

Even though Brienne spent the rest of the short amount of time they had together kissing him, holding him, and persuading him to _live, _in his heart, Jaime knew he would ignore her instructions. How could he live, happy and in comfort, when his wench had been treated so unjustly? Yes, his life _was _his, but he knew in an instant he would devote it to her.

His lips still burning with her kisses, Jaime was eventually separated from Brienne, and he was forced to walk out of the courthouse, leaving her to a dark, depressing fate at least partly orchestrated by Melara Hetherspoon. It made him sick that her weird obsession with him had led to _this. _In spite of the pain he was feeling, Jaime tried to hold onto Brienne's last words to him.

_I trust you with my life, my love..._

Only moments from parting from her, Jaime knew he would prove himself deserving of her faith. He vowed as much when he went out into the car park and found his friends huddled together, his father-in-law being comforted by Margaery.

"Selwyn," said Jaime croakily, causing Brienne's father to remove his hands from his face.

"Yes, son?"

_God, _thought Jaime. _Her eyes are so like her father's._

"I promise you," Jaime swore passionately, "I will not rest until she is free. I will do anything, _anything _to save her. I'll make a pact with the devil himself, because she doesn't deserve this. I _promise _you."

_And Jaime Lannister's promises are worth something, _he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked that! As I've been in Brienne's head for soooooo long, I found it a little tough, so please let me know what you think of Jaime in a lovely comment!
> 
> Next chapter... Jaime Lannister keeps his promise...


	25. The Undercover Operative: Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime tries to keep his promise to Selwyn...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I'm so glad you came back for this chapter! This one has been so hard to write so, if you enjoyed it, please consider leaving comments and kudos!
> 
> Just FYI, the Archive Warnings have changed. It's relatively mild, but I'm putting it there just in case!

When Jaime had promised Selwyn he would make a pact with the devil to see Brienne free, he was not immediately aware that Satan in human form was Melara Hetherspoon. He _of course _blamed Casterly's new Chief Inspector for her relentless pursuit of Brienne, which was based on nothing more than her borderline obsession with him, but he had not expected her to act so brazenly on the first day after Brienne was taken to the high security prison in the Pennines.

"So, team meeting!" she announced when she finally turned up for work, twenty minutes after everyone else.

Unlike with Brienne, there was no affectionate eye-rolling or gentle ribbing, the Casterly Constabulary all simply quietly followed Melara to Brienne's office, pointedly not looking at her. As they walked in silence, Jaime felt Margaery come up beside him and squeeze his elbow supportively.

"Try not to punch her," she said with a sad little smile.

Jaime returned it. "It's not me I'm worried about."

Once they were in the office, the team unconsciously formed a human wall in front of Melara, all taking on their own power stances with crossed arms and irritated expressions. The new Chief Inspector seemed not to notice or, if she did, she was very good at hiding it.

"Right, I've called you all here today because I don't think I have to abide by a patrol rota instituted by a criminal," she said, lifting much of Brienne's neatly ordered paperwork out of the drawer and throwing it in the bin. Jaime thought that if he was going to have to watch Melara behave like this for months, he was going to develop a nervous twitch.

"We all know Brienne isn't a criminal, Hetherspoon," growled the Hound, "so if you were any type of copper, you would be trying to get her off."

Melara fixed him with a saccharine smile. "She's been tried and convicted, Sandor, I wouldn't argue with the law if I were you." Although the Hound said no more, Joff suddenly barked at her, which made Melara jump. Jaime had to push down his triumphant smile.

Trying to compose herself, Melara got a fresh rota from the desk. "As I am now Chief Inspector, I have a very important job and can't waste time going on patrol. So I propose a new division of the patrol groups; Sandor and Margaery on one team, and Pod and Ilyn on the other."

It took Jaime a few moments to register what Melara had just said; that he was not to be on patrol at all. He shot a quick look at Ilyn, who was looking similarly uneasy, but it was eventually Margaery who voiced the team's dissatisfaction. "But you can't do that! Ilyn is retiring at the end of the year, and Brienne promised him an easy last few months."

Melara's fake smile suddenly turned hateful. "I think you'll find, Constable Tyrell, that I can do whatever I want because _I _am the Chief Inspector. And, if I were you, I would learn to keep your mouth shut, because you have been nothing but unpleasant to me since the day I first arrived here. It would be _such a shame _to have to transfer you to another district for upsetting group harmony, wouldn't it?"

Filled with pregnancy hormones, Margaery saw nothing wrong with taking a threatening step towards Melara, so Jaime reached out a hand to hold her back. "All Margaery is trying to say," said Jaime slowly, turning back to Melara, "is that Ilyn would prefer a quiet life, so why not let him stay back at the station and do some paperwork?"

Although he had been trying to sound reasonable, Jaime instantly regretted his intercession, as Melara fixed him with a heated look and walked around the desk to stand directly in front of him. "_Or,_" she said slowly, stepping forward so she was far too close to him for comfort, "Ilyn could go on patrol, and _you _could stay here doing paperwork, because I am Chief Inspector, and that's what I am telling you to do. I have a nice view of your desk from my office anyway."

The silence from the other officers seemed to stiffen, and only the acknowledgement of their support allowed Jaime to stay even remotely calm. "I don't think I am the best for paperwork duty."

"Why is that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Because from now on I will need to stay later on weeknights so I can have half days on Friday. The prison opening times are very strict as it's high security, and I need to go and see my wench."

At that word - _wench _\- Melara bristled. "Why would you want to go and see a murderer in prison when you could stay here with me?"

Jaime gave her a tight smile. "Firstly, Brienne is not a murderer. She is innocent. And secondly, I want to see her because I love her very much and she is my wife."

Melara let out a huff of laughter at that. "But for how much longer, Jaime?" she smirked. "How much longer?"

* * *

After a day of sitting at his desk being watched by Melara, Jaime went out with the rest of his colleagues to _The Inn at the Crossroads _to commiserate and drink beer.

"I _detest _her," spat Robb Stark, taking a sip of his pale ale. "You know she had the temerity to tell me that _I _was lazy? When all she's been doing all day is sitting in her bloody office ogling Lannister."

Jaime shook her head in defeat. "At least she doesn't stare at you like she wants to eat you."

"She doesn't want to eat you," laughed the Hound darkly, "she wants to fuck you."

Jaime took a swig of his beer. "You think I don't know that? Brienne was crazy jealous about her and me for weeks and because I was so fucking dense, I didn't notice it, and now _this _has happened."

"Don't blame yourself," said Jon firmly. "This is no one's fault but hers."

"And yet we have to put up with her lording it all over us like she's the bloody Queen of Sheba while Brienne is in prison," spat Margaery. "It's so unfair."

There was a beat of silence as the entire Constabulary took a slurp of their drinks, mulling over the shitty situation they found themselves in. After a moment, Pod broke the nervous tension. "We've got to get Brienne back. We've got to prove she's innocent."

"But how?" asked Robb Arryn. "Lyn Corbray had her totally stitched up."

Margaery shrugged. "Their whole case hung on Aurane Waters' testimony, and the assumption that Brienne got someone to steal the pufferfish on her behalf. It was born of people casting aspersions on her character, rather than anything concrete. So if we get Aurane to admit either that he is working with Melara or that he doesn't think it was Brienne, the whole case collapses."

"But how are we going to get him to do that?" asked Robb Arryn despondently.

To his surprise, it was Jaime that came up with the idea first. "One of us goes to see him every day until he changes his story."

"Wouldn't that be some sort of witness intimidation?" queried Jon.

"I don't give a shit," confessed Jaime. "If it gets my wench out of prison, that's what we'll do."

* * *

The next day they put the plan in action, sending the Hound round to Aurane's with Joff to have a little _after hours chat_. Meanwhile, Jaime resisted Melara's lascivious stare by putting photos of his wench everywhere, so when the Queen Bitch looked out into the staffroom, all she saw were identical pairs of condemning blue eyes. Jaime's other act of rebellion came in his commitment to seeing his wife. Although Melara would not give him time off to see Brienne on Friday, on Thursday Jaime put up a glorious act of having a terrible cold. Even though he had to put up with Melara fussing over him as if he was hers to care about, it meant come the following day he was able to convince her he was terribly ill and needed the day off. Of course, instead of spending the day in bed, he went to see his wench.

When Jaime was eventually shuffled into the meeting room in King's Landing Ladies Prison, his heart was in his mouth with nerves. Could he stomach seeing her brought so low? Could he be strong for her? Could he keep her in a positive frame of mind? Jaime need not have been worried because the second he saw her - his wench - all his fears melted away. It was true that it was a bit incongruous to see Brienne in prisoner orange, but he didn't care because she was _here, _he could talk to her, and he could look into her blue eyes and feel peaceful.

Jaime's jubilant bubble only popped when he ran towards her and saw they were separated by a thin pane of glass. In an attempt to show her how much he wished he could touch her, Jaime pressed his only hand flat against the glass. As she copied him, Brienne's beautiful blue eyes filled with tears and, at the sight, he thought his aching heart would break because there was nothing more he hated in the world than seeing her cry.

"Don't cry wench," he said, momentarily forgetting about the need for phones. "I'm here."

_I'm here and so are you, _he thought._That's all that matters._

Eventually, through gesture and kind smiles, Brienne convinced him to pick up the phone. The second they were connected, Jaime's feelings came out in a torrent.

"Wench, I'm so happy to see you. How are you?"

"As well as can be expected I suppose," she replied, giving him an unnatural beam.

"Are you sleeping well? How's the food?"

"Nothing on your Moroccan tagine," she smiled, and for a moment they were back on their first date, watching each other across a table. "We had turkey twizzlers for lunch today though, which made a pleasant change from the usual gruel."

The thought of Brienne inside eating gruel while Melara sat in her office back at the station trying to sink her teeth into him made Jaime feel sick. "This is so unfair," he croaked. "I want you home."

"I want to _be _home. Being at home with you is a million times better than life in a cold cell with my cellmate."

Casually inquiring about her cellmate, Jaime was horrified to discover that it was his batshit crazy twin sister, and he only grew more fearful when Brienne mentioned that Daenerys Targaryen, the famed drug dealer she had put away, was also in the same prison. It made Jaime think that someone had arranged for this to happen, and his desperate mind only came up with one name.

Melara fucking Hetherspoon.

"This is all such bullshit!" he raged. "You shouldn't be in prison with people like my sister and Daenerys fucking Targaryen... you shouldn't be in prison at all!"

Brienne, being the angel she was, tried to soothe him. "Jaime, don't worry..."

"But I _do _worry," he said passionately. "I worry every second you are not at home with me. I torture myself over if you are eating properly, and if they know you can't stand to sleep with the window closed, and if you're coping as badly with all this as I am. I spend my days talking to Josmyn to try and work out the best way to appeal this injustice; he seems to think there is something fishy about Aurane's testimony. If we can convince him to tell the truth, maybe there's a chance..."

Clearly, Brienne didn't want to talk about plans to bust her out of jail; perhaps because she missed him as much as he missed her, she didn't want to hear about Aurane Waters. She wanted to hear about Jaime Lannister.

"Work is... work is not fun."

Although he tried to keep the worst of it from her, Jaime couldn't help but tell her about Melara and Ilyn and the patrol rotas. He could see that Brienne got somewhat irritated when Jaime told her about Melara salivating all over him, but he thought it was better she knew than keeping her in the dark.

_It's only you, wench, _he thought._Only you._

When he saw the topic got too much for her, however, he tried to swerve it onto something else. "Let's not talk about Melara. Let's talk about..."

"Two minutes!" called the warden, not caring about the injustice that was Jaime having been parted from his wench.

Even though they did not have much time, Brienne took the opportunity to show how much she loved him in tears and blushes. The sight made Jaime's chest ache. "I want to hold your hand. I miss you so much."

"I miss you too, Jaime," she confessed. "_So much. _I dreamt about you."

It pleased him so much to hear that he was always in her thoughts, that he said, "a nice dream, I hope."

She went even redder at that wish. "Yes. We were at home. In our bed."

"Oh," he replied, his heart beating faster. "It was one of _those _dreams."

"Yeah. It was."

Trying to bring some brevity into their last few moments together, he asked, "was Dream Jaime any good?"

Sensing the game he was trying to draw her into, Brienne gave him a playful smile. "Oh... _amazing. _I'm considering leaving Real Jaime for him."

"You _wound _me, wench," Jaime laughed, before becoming more determined to discover the exact nature of these dreams, so when she was finally free, he could help her relive them in the waking world. "Does Dream Jaime do that thing with his tongue which makes you...?"

"Time's up!" came the warden's heartless order. "Visiting hours are over."

Suddenly, Jaime needed to make every second count. "Wench, I'll be back as soon as I can. Melara is being a total shit about giving me time off to make the drive up here, but if I have to fake having Dengue Fever every week I will."

"I love you," she said simply, her words dripping with the depth of feeling that was mirrored in him.

"I love you too, wench, and I'll see you..."

And then the phones were cut off, and all he heard was silence.

* * *

"Lion cub, on Friday I need you here to help me with all the traffic reports. The Hound was really lazy in processing them, and you are the only one I trust to get the job done properly."

"Jaime, this Friday we are going out on patrol together, for old times' sake."

"Jaime, I can't give you time off to go and visit that criminal. It would reflect badly on all of us if the newspapers caught wind of one of our officers going to visit his serial killer wife."

As May rolled into June, Jaime did everything in his power to see Brienne, but Melara was making it increasingly difficult for him to escape his duties as a police officer. Jaime had become increasingly tempted to pack the whole thing in and tell her to fuck her job, fuck herself, and fuck off, because she'd ruined being a police officer for him anyway. However, it was only his salary that was enabling him to keep up with the mortgage payments on his and Brienne's house, and he couldn't face losing the physical remnants of the life they had built together.

So, he soldiered on.

Things finally came to a head in mid-June, when Melara announced one staff meeting that she had been invited to collect an award for services to the Police Force.

"Police _Service,_" Jon, Robb Arryn, and the Hound had chorused in unison, wanting to keep Brienne's spirit alive even in her absence.

"Of course," snarked Melara, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "But it does mean I will be needed in Lannisport on Friday and Saturday, and so will Jaime."

"Me?" asked Jaime stupidly. "Why me?"

"Because all award winners need dates, and I choose you, Sergeant Lannister," she smirked.

Jaime's heart dropped through the floor. "No... I can't... I'm busy..."

"Oh, I think you will make it," she said sweetly, "because with your wife in prison, it's vitally important you keep your job, isn't it? Especially considering all those legal fees."

In the face of Melara's unashamed game playing, Jaime found himself so angry and tense he wanted to kick something (maybe even the Queen of the Underworld herself). However, knowing he needed to keep his job, he was forced to spend the rest of the day simmering while filling out parking tickets, before refusing the Hound's invite to go to the pub after work. Instead, Jaime felt the need to be close to his wench, so went home, to the place where the walls rang with her. Needing to let off some steam, he went straight upstairs to her underwear drawer, found a pair of her comfortable _Bridget Jones _style knickers, and had a wank with them pressed to his face. Although he had hoped that chasing his release would make him feel better, Jaime discovered that, actually, it just made him miss Brienne even more. Suddenly not wanting to spend another moment alone, he got himself cleaned up and marched over to Margaery's house, praying she was in. To his surprise, the door was answered by Robb Stark.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "I thought you'd gone to the pub with the Hound and the others?"

Jaime shook his head. "Nah, didn't feel like it. Can I come in?"

Robb made a small objection on the basis that he and Margaery were kind of having a date, but then Margaery appeared behind him, took one look at him, and held her arms wide. "Oh, Jaime. What's the matter?"

Needing the comfort, Jaime strode past Robb and threw himself into Margaery's embrace, letting her rub his back as he sobbed. "I just miss her so much," he cried, trying to ignore the distant admonishing voice that sounded like his father, who claimed that tears were for girls.

"I know you do," said Margaery soothingly, rocking him ever so slightly. "But I promise we're going to get her out of there."

"How?" he sobbed. "Everything has been stitched up against her, and Melara is out here forcing me to go to award ceremonies with her, when I want nothing more than Brienne to be back home with me."

"You great big softie," chided Margaery affectionately. "You didn't used to be like this when I first met you, that bitter old drunk who was foul to everyone he met."

Jaime broke the hug and looked into Margaery's eyes. "Brienne's ruined me so completely... there's no turning back. She's captured me entirely... I must help her."

"No, I agree. There is no turning back," conceded Margaery. "If we commit to setting her free, we must do it whatever the cost..."

"Whatever the cost," Jaime agreed. "But the problem is I just don't know what to do. Because of Melara's stupid award ceremony, I can't go and visit Brienne on Friday, and even if I could, it still wouldn't make any difference. None of us are close to breaking Aurane, and there is no new evidence that has come to light to prove her innocence. What are we meant to do?"

To his surprise, it was not Margaery that spoke, but Robb. "We come up with a new plan. Whatever the cost."

_Whatever the cost..._

* * *

In the end, they decided that in Jaime's absence, Margaery would visit Brienne and assure her everything was _fine, _even though Jaime had spent every night that week around Margaery's house crying his eyes out. In spite of the fact he was happy that someone would be there for Brienne, on Friday night Jaime could not help but feel incredibly guilty as he got suited and booted for Melara's fucking awards ceremony, as he feared she thought this was a genuine date. In his fury, he then spent most of the evening drinking to avoid any of it feeling serious.

"You look so handsome tonight, lion cub," Melara purred, "I want to eat you all up."

Disgusted with her and himself, he did not offer her a compliment back.

However, things started to look up on Sunday, when Margaery sent around a message to the Casterly Constabulary Group Chat (which naturally excluded Melara) and was devoted to getting Brienne freed.

_Margaery: _Guys, I've got it. The evidence. Meet me at 1pm at _Biscuits for All Occasions _to discuss.

Jaime made sure he wasn't a second late, but, to his elation, his enthusiasm was matched by all his colleagues too, who were all jumping at the chance of being part of a conspiracy. Once he sat down, Margaery passed him a cup of tea and a piece of gingerbread, fixing him with a joyful grin.

"Brienne has only gone and cracked it!"

"Cracked what?" he asked stupidly.

"The poisoning case!" Margaery grinned, her smile so broad it almost reached her ears.

That announcement sent a ripple of approval throughout the group.

"How?" asked Jon. "Did she get some new information."

Margaery nodded, leaning forward excitedly, even though her bump was in the way. "Yes. After some weird netball tournament in prison, she ended up having a conversation with Cersei, who decided to spill the beans about her former best friend."

Jaime opened his mouth in shock. "Cersei told Brienne something useful?"

"Yeah, it's like we're in a parallel universe or something," smirked Margaery.

"What did she say?" asked the Hound, even going so far as to ignore Joff plaintive puppy-dog eyes request for a biscuit in order to listen.

Margaery took a big breath before starting her story. "She said that back in the day, there was some sort of travelling fair that went through Casterly. Everyone attended, even Melara. Towards the end of the day, Cersei and Melara went to this weird old fortune teller called Mystic Maggy, who told Melara that she and Jaime were destined for each other, and you know how much Melara puts her faith in all that psychic rubbish."

Robb Stark looked at her confusedly. "But what's that got to do with anything?"

"Cersei then admitted that, soon after she heard that prophecy, Melara discovered that her other friend Jeyne Farman fancied Jaime too, and she pushed her down a well. The poor girl broke her leg."

A moment of ice cold silence was suddenly shared between all the members of the Casterly Constabulary, as it slowly dawned on them what Melara Hetherspoon was. "So what you are saying," said Jaime slowly, "is that Brienne thinks that because Melara resorted to violence over... _me _before, she did it again with Senelle and Taena?"

"And Pia," added Margaery. "Brienne is convinced that Melara wanted to target all your ex-flings that she was aware of. Unfortunately for her, when trying to attack Pia, she accidently got Pod instead."

Robb Arryn let out a splutter of laughter at that idea. "But how did she even manage it?" he asked. "How did she manage to steal the pufferfish, frame Brienne, and well... everything?"

"She had an accomplice," smiled Margaery victoriously. "Aurane Waters is not just some innocent bystander. He is also from Birmingham, and Brienne reckons that they knew each other before either ever came to Casterly and are both working together for some reason."

Even as Jaime felt himself getting excited, the Hound had to burst the bubble. "If this is true, how are we going to prove it? If Melara has stitched Brienne up, she has done it so well that only a confession straight from her mouth would suffice in getting Brienne free. I know we are all good coppers, but how are we just going to get Melara fucking Hetherspoon to admit to what she's done to us? She barely even likes any of us."

Margaery raised an eyebrow and looked at the Hound triumphantly. "Well, luckily for us, we're in possession of something Melara desperately wants."

"What?" interjected Jaime, hope rising in his belly because there was at least a small chance that they could get Brienne free. However, his elation evaporated almost as instantly as it came when the entirety of the Casterly Constabulary turned and looked at him as one.

_Oh, _he thought distantly. _I am what Melara wants..._

"You can't be serious," he stammered, even as all his colleagues stared at him like he was a prize steak.

"Of course we are serious," said Margaery firmly. "I know this sucks, but..."

"But what?" he snapped. "What are you expecting of me? That I somehow... _seduce _the truth out of Melara?"

"Maybe seduce is not the best word..." said Margaery gently, before Robb Stark interrupted.

"The other night you were saying you would do anything to save Brienne, whatever the cost..."

"Yeah, but..."

"Perhaps this is the price," declared Robb firmly. "If you play your cards right, Melara will be putty in your hands and tell you anything you want, including that she murdered two people, tried to kill a third, and pushed another down a well all for your dick."

"But what good would that do?" thundered Jaime. "I kiss Melara, fuck her, in the hope she spills some secrets? If I did that, my marriage would be over in heartbeat, whatever my good intentions, because although Brienne would try to forgive me, she would never get that image out of her head, of me and Melara."

"Lannister," grumbled the Hound, "stop being so dramatic."

"I'm not being dramatic!" he shouted, causing some other customers of _Biscuits for All Occasions _to turn around. "I don't get what everyone finds so difficult to understand about this; I am Brienne's, completely and entirely. I could never do that to her, I would never want to do that to her, I _want _no one else. And me fucking Melara for secrets would break her heart worse than a lifetime in prison!"

Sensing how upset he was getting, Margaery placed a soothing hand on his forearm. "We're not saying you should fuck Melara, or even kiss her; just flirt with her a bit, lead her on. She's so desperate for even the slightest scrap of affection from you that I am sure you would be able to get the truth out of her in no time."

Jaime ran his hands through his hair, trying to find the best way forward. "You think I should flirt with her in the hope she will confess to me?"

"Yes!" declared the whole of the team in unison. Their united front made Jaime's heart sink as with it came the realisation that it was the only way to save Brienne.

"You do realise there is one major flaw in the whole plan, don't you?"

"What?" asked Robb Stark, confused.

Dropping his voice, Jaime grimaced, "I can't flirt for shit."

"What do you mean you can't flirt for shit?" proclaimed Jon. "Everyone can flirt."

"Yeah, but... you saw my terrible attempt at wooing Brienne. I fucking hate Melara, how am I ever going to be able to flirt with her?"

Robb Stark raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh Jaime, there are ways and means, I assure you."

* * *

As it turned out, Robb's ways and means consisted of nothing more than Jaime turning up at the station on Monday morning, leaning against the doorframe of Brienne's office, and giving Melara a _come hither _look.

"Melara," he purred.

"Jaime," she breathed, jumping up from her desk when she saw his expression. "What are you doing here?"

When she crossed the room towards him, Jaime had to suppress the urge to run away, and thought about Brienne's lovely blue eyes in order to keep himself steady. "Oh, I just wanted to tell you that I had a lovely time at the award ceremony the other day, and... if you wanted... would like to do something similar again."

At that statement, Melara's eyes suddenly went very wide and Jaime saw the desperate schoolgirl who had once hopelessly pined for him. It might have been endearing in another context but, considering the backdrop of Brienne's imprisonment, it only made Jaime fearful.

"I would like that."

"Great," he replied, surprised at how easy it had been to bend her to his will. "Why don't I come and pick you up at seven on Wednesday, and we could go to a restaurant in Lannisport?"

Melara flushed so majestically at his invite that Jaime almost felt sorry for her. "That sounds wonderful."

In the end, he took her to a rather crappy Greek place on the outskirts of town whose food Brienne had once labelled as tasting like cat sick. Even so, Melara looked as excited as if he had invited her for tea at _The Ritz _and had dressed accordingly. As they shared a mezze platter, Jaime tried to steer the topic onto all the murder and mayhem Melara had caused, but she seemed to prefer reminiscing about interactions they had had over the years that Jaime had completely forgotten.

"Do you remember in Year 10 when Casterly High played Lannisport Comprehensive in the County Final? I came to see the game and, once we won, you _waved _at me Jaime... you waved."

"Do you remember that stupid joint birthday party you and Cersei had for your sixteenth and you got so drunk you were sick in a rhododendron bush? I went and got you a towel to clean up."

"Oooh, do you remember once when Mr Dayne made us act out the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet in English class and we played the eponymous heroes? You were such a convincing actor that I thought you were in love with me."

To his immense disappointment, in spite of Melara's enthusiasm, Jaime had had no success in wheedling the truth out of her on the date and, when they arrived back at her house, she puckered her lips for a kiss. Jaime had to try very hard not to relive the past and vomit in a nearby bush when he saw that, and tried to think of a way to escape.

"Melara, you don't want to kiss me."

She looked very confused. "Why not?"

"Errr... I've got a cold sore."

"I can't see it."

"It's there," he insisted, pointing vaguely at his face. "I don't want you to catch it."

Even as he tried to turn away, Melara put a hand on his shoulder. "I don't care. Kiss me, Jaime."

"I'm doing this for your benefit..."

She looked at him crossly. "Are you? Really?"

"Yes!" he swore. "Did you know cold sores are caused by the herpes virus? I've got herpes all up in my mouth, you don't want to kiss me." For the first time since she had returned to Casterly, Melara looked faintly repulsed at something he had said, and Jaime wasted no time in taking his opportunity and running into the night.

Unfortunately, it did not end there. After a few more failed attempts of getting the truth out of her disguised as dates, Melara started pressuring him for sex.

"Oh no, I can't do that," he maintained.

"Why not?" she asked exasperatedly, attempting to jump him even as he pushed her away.

"Because I am still married to Brienne and I have strong religious beliefs. I don't want to betray my vows to her."

Melara rolled her eyes. "Fuck vows and honour. We want each other, so let's _have _each other."

Pushing her away once more, Jaime fixed her with an imploring look. "But wouldn't it be so much sweeter when I'm divorced from her?"

At that question, Melara looked at him with starlight. "You are going to divorce Brienne? For me?"

Trying to suppress the thought of those condemning blue eyes, Jaime managed to croak out the lie. "Yes, I'll divorce Brienne for you... as long as you tell me what you have done to ensure our relationship."

* * *

As Jaime telling Brienne he wanted a divorce slowly became a precondition of Melara's confession, Jaime increasingly felt backed into a corner with no escape. At least Margaery had a plan.

"Just go up to the prison and _claim _you told Brienne. How is Melara going to know any different?"

As it turned out, Melara had spies on the inside.

"When you do it, I am going to be there listening on the phone. That Head Warden Mord can be sweetened to let me into the control room to listen on the phone for a handful of cash... oh, it will be so sweet to hear that bitch cry."

However Jaime tried to fight it, he slowly came to the realise that he had no choice. If he wanted Melara to confess her crimes and thereby free Brienne, this was what he had to do. This was the cost. This was the dance with the devil. Even so, he tried to soften the blow as much as possible when he was next on the phone with his wench.

"Brienne?"

"Yes?"

"You know that I'd never willingly hurt you, don't you?"

Her voice quivered as she gave him her response. "Of course I do, Jaime. I love you so much."

"I love you too," he replied, trying not to cry. "Always and forever."

Yet the next day, he went and broke her heart. Even as Jaime stared through the glass at his wench, who was nervously talking about how illhe looked, Jaime could hear Melara breathing down the line, as ravenous as a dragon.

"Brienne," he snapped suddenly, not being able to abide her being so caring while he was about to do something so terrible. "Please can you just stop talking for a moment."

There was a flicker of hurt in her teary eyes, but she still managed to hold his gaze. "Say what you need to say. I'm listening."

After an exchange of names, Jaime told Brienne the most horrible, awful lie that had ever left his lips, designed to break his heart as well as hers.

"It's over."

"What's over?" she asked, her face a picture of innocence.

"You and me; I want a divorce."

At that simple declaration, all the colour drained from her face. "What?"

"I want a _divorce,_" Jaime repeated, even though he could not stop the tears erupting from his eyes that somehow seemed connected to his heart's lifeblood.

Brienne stared at him, stunned, until eventually she managed to say, "Jaime... why? What have I done?"

"Nothing," he sobbed, "nothing at all. You're the best wife, wench."

"Then _why, _Jaime?" she spluttered. "Why do you want to divorce me? I love you so much. So, so much. I know it is hard with me in here, but as I told Margaery, I think I've got a way out..."

The sight of her hurting was so terribly painful that Jaime almost couldn't look. It was made even worse when he had to claim that their relationship was doomed, that he didn't want a baby with her, that it was a mistake to have ever loved her, ever married her. Even as he tried to disassociate from his own voice, his own deeds, Jaime was endlessly pulled back into the present by her tragically beautiful blue eyes.

"Jaime," she cried, "please don't do this."

"I have to, wench," he sobbed in return, knowing this was the price for her freedom. "I have to."

"I don't understand why you are doing this. Yesterday on the phone you said..."

Suddenly realising that Melara could hear everything they were saying, Jaime knew he had to silence her. "Shhh... don't mention what I said on the phone... not now. None of that matters. I lied. We're over. I want a divorce."

"Jaime, if you're going to break my heart, can you please at least give me a reason that feels genuine? This isn't you. Doing it like this is _cruel, _and you are not cruel. You've never been cruel."

_I am cruel, wench, _he thought. _Because I'm doing this to you, my love._

As he gave her more excuses, more empty reasons as to why he did not love her anymore, Brienne fought back, armed only with her tears. "You're a good man, my man, and I _love _you so much. If I could break through this glass right now, I would hold you and kiss you and make you see sense. I know it's hard, but we can work through this, if we just try."

"I don't want to try," he lied. "I don't want _you."_

That claim pushed her right over the edge, and she began to weep loudly, her whole body shaking with the force of her immense sadness. "Jaime, I... I... I... I love you. Please..." 

Seeing Brienne in such a state was too much to bear for his fragile heart and, in his despair, Jaime found himself growling down the phone directly at Melara herself. "Are you happy now?" When he did not get an answer, Jaime got to his feet and ran away, not wanting to admit to himself that Brienne's distress was his doing. As he ran, she screamed and cried and banged on the window.

_I'm hateful, _he thought. _So hateful..._

To his horror, Melara was waiting for him outside, a smile blooming on her face.

"Yes, Jaime. I am very happy."

* * *

With the price paid, it was only a matter of time before Melara would confess all the terrible things she had done. Jaime was sure he would just have to wait. What he wasn't prepared for, however, was that the news of his split with Brienne and his subsequent "shacking up" with Melara fucking Hetherspoon would be around Casterly as quickly as a firestorm. Masha Heddle refused to serve him at _The Inn at the Crossroads. _Jorah Mormont tutted loudly whenever he walked into _Biscuits for All Occasions. _Once in the street, Syrio Forel called him a _dirty dog who didn't know what was good for him. _What made him really sick, however, was when Ron Connington came up to him while he waited in line to buy popcorn when he went to see _Zombie Horror Hordes _with the Hound and congratulated him for finally getting rid of Brienne the Beauty.

None of it was as bad as Tyrion's approbation, though.

_Tyrion: _I've just heard what you've done. I can't even look at you, can't even call you. How could you do something like this to Brienne? She fucking saved this entire town from our crazy father and sister on _your _behalf and _this _is how you repay her? I'm disgusted with you, Jaime. Absolutely disgusted. I would expect this type of behaviour from Cersei, not you. Until you've shaken some sense into yourself, I don't wish to hear from you.

Jaime was so heartbroken he didn't have the words to respond. Going to bed that night, he curled up into a ball and thought of her. Brienne loved him so much, and he had hurt her in the worse possible way, treating her as nothing but dirt on his shoe.

_I don't deserve her, _he thought. _Even if I manage to free her, I can't have her back... not after what I've done. I am the lowest of the low._

Melara didn't seem to think so, however, as with that utterly cruel act, she seemed more besotted with him and closer than ever to confessing. As the others had finally had success with cracking Aurane, the Casterly Constabulary decided the best thing to do was to break Brienne out and bring her face to face with her erstwhile accuser. Hoping he had a sliver of a conscience, Margaery thought the sight of Brienne's wounded expression would be enough to make Aurane confess to his part in setting her up and, in doing so, bring Melara's reign of terror to an end.

_I would confess, _thought Jaime. _I would confess anything._

On the day the prison break had been arranged, Jaime distracted Melara by taking her to Lannisport, making one last push to getting the truth out of her. Wanting space to talk, Jaime organised for them to do a tour of the medieval city walls, and Melara spent the whole time clinging to his arm.

"I bet you're glad, aren't you?" Melara asked, gripping him so tightly that he thought she had stopped his circulation.

"Of what?"

She gave him a knowing smile. "Of being here with me, rather than that ugly heifer you used to stick your dick into. I have no idea how you managed it; I should think it would have turned most men's stomachs, especially if she started mooing while you were going at it. You are so handsome and delicate, Jaime, like expensive porcelain, I'm surprised she didn't crush you."

_I like being crushed, _he thought angrily, _I like being ridden, and taken hard, and loved by my wench in that way because it makes me feel so safe, like I don't always have to be the strong one, like it's okay to be vulnerable in someone else's arms._

_So shut your fucking mouth about her._

Instead of biting back, however, he gave her the nearest expression to a smile he could summon. "Yeah, I have no idea how I managed it."

_Easily, _he told himself, _so damn easily._

"It's just a mystery to me," giggled Melara, her laugh obnoxious and annoying, "why you even went through with that sham of a marriage when you could have just found me, and we could have been together this whole time. Like we should have been."

Thinking it would have been difficult to give her an answer without sounding incredibly insincere, Jaime pushed the question back on her. "Why didn't you come and find _me_? Was it because you were with other men?"

"I _had _other men," Melara corrected him, her eyes burning. "But there are no men like you, Jaime. Only you."

"Oh," he said, feeling quite disturbed by the passionate expression she was giving him. As he was not capable of saying anything loving back, there was a silence that seemed to go on forever.

"Jaime?"

"Mmm?"

"Tonight, I think we should give in."

He looked at her wearily. "To what?"

She squeezed his arm softly, so gently that it was almost irritating. "To our desires. We've wanted each other for twenty years. Don't you think it's about time we surrendered to it?"

"What do you mean?" Jaime asked stupidly, hoping that by playing the idiot he could put her off saying the thing he knew she was going to say.

Drawing to a halt, Melara looked up at him with those eyes that hid so much. "I want you to make love to me, Jaime... I've wanted it for as long as I can remember."

Jaime would have laughed if he wasn't so aware of how incredibly dangerous Melara was. Her eyes seemed to burn, hot like hell, and he wanted nothing more than to run away, yet he knew he had to keep her dangling until she gave him what he wanted. It hurt to lie, but he had no other choice.

"I want it too," he claimed, the words feeling heavy on his tongue, "but we can't..."

"Why not?" asked Melara, desperation in her tone.

"Because of my vows..."

"Fuck your vows to _her_," she spat angrily. "We made a vow by being in love when we were seventeen, let's do something about it."

In the face of the crazy, Jaime suddenly had an idea. "No, let's wait."

"Why?"

"I want to be totally free of that cow before I give myself to you," he lied, trying his best seductive voice on her. "I want to feel liberated before I have you touch me and know that I am yours alone. And the anticipation will be... errr... very sexy, won't it?"

Melara blushed, thinking of the build to the inevitable climax. "Oh god, yes it will."

"So you're willing to wait?"

"You have no idea of the things I've done to have you," she smiled. "What's a few more months?"

Although he spent the rest of the day in Lannisport trying to persuade Melara to tell him exactly what she had done so they could be together, Jaime knew his best chance would come when he went back to hers and they had a drink. The combination of wine and sweet words might be enough to tip her over the edge, to make her looser lipped...

"Would you like red or white, lion cub?" Melara asked from the kitchen, as Jaime made himself comfortable on the sofa.

"Oh, white please."

_I drink red, _he thought. _But you are not even having that tiny piece of me._

Melara entered the room a few moments later, glasses in hand, her eyes ravenous. After putting the drinks down on the table, she came and sat down next to him, pushing herself against him so he could feel her soft, feminine body beside him. Her warmth just made Jaime's chest ache for Brienne.

"Come on lion cub," she purred, "have a drink with me. We've much to celebrate."

When he looked at her quizzically, she shoved a glass into his hand. "Have we?"

"Of course," Melara grinned, taking a sip of her own wine. "You've told that bitch you want a divorce. You are mine in mind, if not yet in body."

The wine made Melara's lips red, but not in a seductive way, but as if she was a vampire with poor table manners. Jaime tried not to shiver in disgust when she pressed one cold hand to his chest and took a glug of his own drink, hoping it would keep him calm.

"Not yet," was all he could think of saying.

"Not yet," she repeated breathily. "But _soon. _Anyway, you've demonstrated to me to me your loyalty..."

"How?" he asked, drinking to try and distract himself from her roving hands.

_For Brienne, _he told himself. _For Brienne._

"You made her cry when you told her you wanted a divorce," she smiled, as if it were a brilliant Christmas present and not something awful. "How I enjoyed that! It almost puts us level pegging on what we've done to keep _us _strong."

At the mention of _what Melara had done to keep them strong, _Jaime got his phone out and rested it idly in his lap, as if he were expecting a text. In fact, he slipped the camera onto record while she was too busy sipping wine and playing with his hair to notice. "What have you done to keep us strong?" he asked when he was sure his phone was recording their conversation.

Melara put her hand on his cheek and, as usual, he found it too soft, small, and cold. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Yes," Jaime said sincerely, removing her hand and placing it back on his chest, hoping she would interpret that as him wanting her to be close to his heart, and not because he didn't want her touching his face. "I _do _want to know. The most important thing for me in any relationship is _communication. _As I told you, Brienne didn't talk to me, but as you are _so much better _than Brienne, I would love to hear what you have done for us. It will make me so happy to know you trust me with that information."

To Jaime's immense relief, he could see the exact moment when Melara melted, her features softening as she looked at him. Drunk on the thought that he loved her, she said, "well, why don't you drink up your wine, and I'll tell you all about it." Not wanting to impede her story telling, Jaime did what she suggested and gulped down most of glass, and the settled back into the cushions to hear her story.

"Well, I told you about stupid Jeyne Farman, didn't I? I pushed her down that well because she _dared _to want you; _her, _that fat ugly little pig dared to want _you _when she wasn't worthy to lick your boots."

"I didn't want her," said Jaime honestly, trying to keep the crazy lady onside even though he could not bring himself to say he desired her.

"Doesn't matter," Melara growled. "I am the only one for you, we both know that, so that she even thought about trying to get you made me _so _angry. I had to do something, and if that was pushing her down a well, then so be it."

"That was very brave of you," Jaime lied, attempting to convince Melara he was supportive of her. "Did you do it to anyone else?"

Clearly puffed up on what she thought was his encouragement, Melara gave him a proud smile. "Of course. After I didn't get into the same university as you, I went to London and tried to forget about you, but it was _hopeless. _I tried to move on, but every time I did, I was always reminded of Maggy's prophecy and how we are written in the stars. So I knew I had to come back to Casterly, that I had to find you..."

"And you did," said Jaime, trying not to sound bitter.

"I did," conceded Melara. "But then what did I discover?"

"What?"

Her expression suddenly became angry. "That you had shacked up with a great beast of a woman who could be easily mistaken for a farm animal."

Jaime wanted to say something to defend Brienne's honour, but he felt a little drowsy, so instead just tried pinning down the hard facts. "Melara, did you try to kill her?"

"Fuck no," she scoffed. "Brienne did not deserve to have a quick death via pufferfish like the others, oh no, because while Senelle, Taena, and Pia had only had you for a time, Brienne had taken you from me, _permanently_. She lived with you, shared your bed, and got to be your wife every single day. It made me so angry, because that great ugly whore had everything I wanted, everything I _deserved, _everything that was destined for me from the day I was born. She had _you, _Jaime, so she had to pay."

"So you framed her for Senelle and Taena's deaths?" he asked gently, trying to suppress a yawn. "Even though it was _you _who actually poisoned them?"

"Yes," smiled Melara proudly, as if it were some great achievement, "and that oaf Podrick's attack too. As Senelle, Taena, and Pia had only been distractions, I decided to be merciful; a quick death was all they were due, but Brienne... _oh._I wanted her to suffer for everything she had taken from me. I wanted to convince you that she was a murderer and then force her to spend the rest of her days in prison while I took you from her and gave you everything you desired. A baby, Jaime... I will give you children..."

If Jaime didn't feel so tired, he would have wanted to vomit. "But how did you do it? How did you frame her?"

Melara let out a laugh, cold and chilling. "Oh, I used Aurane Waters, of course. He was a well-known criminal I was acquainted with back in Birmingham, and it was _him_that helped me set up the bank account in Panama in Brienne's name, _him_that stole the pufferfish from Wyman Manderly's catering company after Senelle told me about them, and _him_that planted the remaining fish in your freezer. And once all the false evidence was in place, I did what had to be done. For us."

"For us," Jaime repeated, feeling a little light-headed. Trying to get hold of himself, Jaime said, "Melara, would you mind getting me some water? I've come across all faint."

Her grin grew large at that. "Of course, lion cub. I'll be back in a moment."

Moving away from him, she got to her feet and crossed the room, heading out into the kitchen to get him some water. Even though Jaime was feeling increasingly woozy, he didn't waste his chance. Stopping the recording, he sent a message to the Group Chat devoted to plotting Brienne's freedom.

_Jaime: _ I've got it. She's confessed. Sending it through now.

In a few clicks, the video recording was attached and sent. Although he did not have the time to check it, Jaime just hoped and prayed it worked.

When Melara came back into the room, water in hand, Jaime got to his feet. Now he had the confession, he did not feel the need to spend another minute in the same room as Melara fucking Hetherspoon. "I'm going to go," he said firmly, trying to take a few steps before discovering his legs felt like lead.

Noticing his predicament, Melara put the glass of water on the table and then grabbed him firmly by the shoulders. "No, Jaime. You must stay here. You look tired, a little pale, sleepy. I think you should stay here... then maybe I could hold you as you drift away."

"No," replied Jaime, "I want to go home..."

"But you shouldn't feel right. You need to rest, need to sleep. You look so exhausted... I wouldn't want you to walk all the way home after drinking that wine."

_I only drank one glass, _he thought, even as he acknowledged how terrible he felt. _I shouldn't feel this bad..._

The answer hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Have you put something in my drink?" he asked, blinking madly as he tried to stay awake. He looked down at his empty glass resting on the coffee table, picking it up and trying to see evidence of it having been tampered with, but then found he did not have the strength to keep it in his hand before it went smashing to the ground. Feeling unsteady on his feet, Jaime slumped back into the chair, trying to fight the sleepiness that was overwhelming him. However, in the onslaught of the wine and whatever the hell Melara had drugged him with, he found he was too weak and didn't even have the strength to stop the she-devil when she straddled him.

"No..." Jaime mumbled as the blackness started creeping in. "I don't want..."

In spite of his protests, Melara's dark eyes were ravenous. "Yes. You _do _want. You've _always _wanted. It's written in the stars, you and me."

The last thing he felt before the blackness overwhelmed him was Melara's lips pressed against his own. He was gone before he could say no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I hope you liked that. I've found Jaime's POV so hard to write after so long with Brienne so I would love to hear what you thought of it in a comment.
> 
> Next chapter... Brienne and the Casterly Constabulary go to confront Melara...


	26. Face-Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne arrives at Casterly Rock to confront Melara...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I'm a little nervous about this chapter, so I hope you enjoy and would love to hear what you think in the form of a comment or kudos!

For the whole journey to Casterly Rock in the back of the smelly van, Brienne clutched Jaime's prosthetic close and tried to keep her breathing level. "What has she done to him?" she asked no one in particular, her panic seizing her, as Margaery put her arms around her shoulders.

"I don't know, Brienne, I don't know," her best friend replied, biting her lip. "But we'll find him, I promise."

"I'll kill her," growled Brienne. "I'll skin her alive if she's done anything to hurt him. I'll rip her stupid head off. He doesn't deserve this; he's a good man... he doesn't deserve this..."

"We don't know what _this _is yet, we should remain calm until we know for sure," said the Hound levelly, trying to keep the team in the right frame of mind to take down a monster.

Even though Brienne knew what the Hound was saying was true, her heart was gripped with terror. After listening to the recording Jaime had sent through which saw Melara to confessing everything, Brienne had not felt relieved that she would be freed but horrified for Jaime. In an attempt to save his wench, he had led on a bunny boiler, and now she might have done something really terrible to him.

_Please be alright, Jaime, _she thought, holding the prosthetic close. _Please, please, please be alright._

Once the van pulled up outside Casterly Rock, the entirety of the Casterly Constabulary bundled out and Brienne was reminded of a very similar night not so long ago. Then, Jaime's ancestral house had been bathed in moonlight and Tywin, Cersei, and the NWA had waited inside, plotting their takeover of Casterly. On that night, Brienne had been totally alone, but was buoyed up with the belief of the righteousness of her cause and the knowledge that, in attempting to arrest her foes, it was only her life in danger. That was why tonight was worse. If this went wrong, Brienne would lose Jaime, and there was nothing more terrible she could imagine in the whole world.

"Right, how are we going to do this?" asked Robb Stark as he got out of the van, brandishing his baton.

As a force of habit, the whole team turned to look to Brienne for instruction. While getting her baton out with one hand, she kept the prosthetic close for confidence. "All I know is that Melara thinks she's fulfilling some sort of prophecy by bringing Jaime here during the full moon. She thinks he is going to declare his love for her, but I don't know where exactly in the house she would take him, so it is probably best if we split up. So, Robb go with Robb, Pod with the Hound, Ilyn with Jon, and Margaery you can come with me."

In a moment, the whole of the Constabulary was in position, waiting for their next instruction. "Now," continued Brienne, weighing up her options, "Casterly Rock is divided into East and West wings. Robbs, why don't you do the downstairs east, and Pod and the Hound the downstairs west. Ilyn and Jon, go for upstairs east, while Margaery and I will take upstairs west."

Jon bit his lip nervously. "Okay, but what do we do if we find them?"

"The most important thing is that we rescue Jaime," replied Brienne, impassioned. "I don't give a shit if Melara escapes, or if we can't arrest her or whatever. We must save Jaime. We _must."_

There was no argument with that conclusion, and, in a moment, the team were stalking towards the house with a shared focus and drive to save their colleague.

_And my husband, _thought Brienne. _My dearest Jaime._

Once they were inside the house, Brienne was once again reminded of the eerie chill that had pervaded the place the night she had arrived to bust Tywin, Cersei, and the NWA; however, this time there were a few things that were different. One of the smaller family portraits hanging on the wall was askew, and an ornament had been knocked off a table and smashed. The rug was also disturbed in such a way to make Brienne think that someone had been dragged through here. She tried not to get too worried.

"This place is a mess," said Jon, before Brienne gave him a hand signal to indicate he should lower his volume.

"We don't want to give Melara any forewarning," she whispered. "Let's split up. The quicker we can find them, the quicker we end this."

The team wasted no more time. Going their separate way from the others, Brienne pulled Margaery in the direction of the stairs. As they walked up, Brienne slipped Jaime's prosthetic hand under her belt, surmising that if she needed to beat Melara to death, it was better for her to be able to have both hands on her baton. Following Brienne's lead, Margaery dropped into silence as the two of them began to walk down the corridor in the upstairs of the west wing. At the end of the passageway was a window, through which Brienne could see the moon, silver, haunting and full in the sky.

_Melara must think this is all written in the stars, _thought Brienne bitterly, _as the heavens are a stage for her madness._

Having been momentarily blinded by the moon, Brienne only came back to earth when Margaery raised a hand to stop her, then pointed to a chink of light spilling across the floor, coming from a gap in a door off to the right. Taking a deep breath, Brienne moved forward tentatively, and when she did so, she heard a familiar voice that made her heart leap.

"Melara... please listen to me. This is _insane."_

_He sounds so scared, _thought Brienne, _fuck, I've got to save him._

Raising her baton, Brienne made to dart forward, but Margaery held her back. "We don't know what she's got in there. Remember, everyone and their mums are packing in the country. If we listen, we might be able to work out what weapons we're dealing with and make a plan."

"But Jaime..." replied Brienne, trying to keep the panic at bay.

"It's better for him this way too," reassured Margaery. "Melara is a nutter. We don't want to go about this in a way that will make things worse. She's already killed two people. Who knows what else she'll do?" Conceding to Margaery's point that Melara was a lunatic, Brienne stayed back and continued to listen to the conversation going on inside.

"This isn't _insane, _lion cub," came the cruel, heartless bitch's voice. "This is destiny. From the day we met it has always been fate that you would tell me that you love me under the full moon at Casterly Rock on the happiest day of my life. When I was young, I thought it would be that night in the cupboard when you kissed me, but I was wrong... it's tonight, Jaime. Tonight. We've spent the whole day together like a proper couple, so it's only right you say it. Can't you feel it in your bones?"

Jaime let out a little moan that sounded close to a sob. It made Brienne's stomach roil. "I'll say it," he said, his voice quivering, "if you untie me and put the knife down. There's no need for this."

Melara clicked her tongue and made an _awwing _sound. "Of course there is, lion cub. You won't kiss me, you won't fuck me, you're making me _beg. _Although this cat and mouse thing is very sexy, very erotic, I'm tired of playing games. I want you now, and I want you tonight."

"But how were you planning on having me when you put something in my drink?" Jaime asked, slurring his words ever so slightly. "Unless... unless..."

"I _had _to put something in your drink," she responded gently. If this scene was different, Brienne might have even used the word _lovingly_. "I wasn't going to convince you to come to Casterly Rock of your own volition, and it needs to be here for the stars to align properly... it's got to be here that you say it."

There was a pause before the Jaime Brienne knew spoke, his voice hard. "And what if I don't say it?" It was a brave, stupid, and foolhardy thing for him to say considering the circumstances, so much so that Brienne felt a spike of ice in her heart for fear for him. She grew even colder when she heard Melara's response.

"Then I'll have to use this knife of mine to make that face of yours... a little less pretty. And that would be a shame."

In spite of Margaery's eyes going wide and her hand coming up to hold her back, Brienne couldn't stand it a second longer. Even if Melara had ten thousand knives, she would go down fighting her if she even had the smallest chance of saving Jaime. Charging forward, Brienne kicked the door open so furiously that it almost came off its hinges. Without allowing Melara a moment to register what had happened, she stormed into the room, raising her baton aloft.

"GET OFF MY MAN, YOU BITCH!"

Melara snapped her head around, and it gave Brienne a chance to appraise the scene. They were a small bedroom that must once have been a grand room for guests, there was a huge four-poster bed in the middle, luxurious and dusty, with two portraits either side. There was no mistaking the cherubic blond teenagers depicted; on the left was Cersei, her hair tied up in a ribbon, and on the right was Jaime, dressed in a suit. The pair of them could have been no more than fourteen, and if she had just been coming on a visit, Brienne would have taken some time cooing over her husband as a young man, especially the way he was nervously biting his lip. However, right now, she had bigger fish to fry. Jaime was sat on a dining chair in the middle of the room, and when Melara leapt off his lap, Brienne saw that she had bound him tightly to the seat and unbuttoned his shirt. Tears stung Brienne's eyes as she thought about how much Jaime must have hated Melara touching him without his permission.

_I'll rip her fucking head off, _Brienne thought furiously.

At Brienne's dramatic entrance, Melara had reacted instantly. Wheeling around the chair, she stood behind Jaime, bringing the silver blade his throat while putting her other hand to his bare chest. "He's not _your man _anymore," laughed Melara, before pressing a kiss to Jaime's temple. "You are getting a divorce."

Jaime's wide-eyed expression - imploring and beautiful - sent Brienne's heart swelling with confidence. "If you honestly believe that, you are more delusional than I thought." A storm cloud crossed Melara's face and, in response, she dug the blade into Jaime's skin a little further, setting him wincing. It was only at Jaime's pained expression that Brienne noticed Margaery beside her, pregnant and enraged.

"Get off him, you stupid bitch," growled Margaery.

"I don't think so," snarled Melara cruelly, tightening her grip on her knife. "If you two don't drop your batons _right now_, I'll slit his fucking throat."

Margaery let out a sarcastic huffing sound. "As if we would believe that!"

Brienne was not so willing to play Russian Roulette with her husband's life, however. "Do what she says, Margaery."

Margaery's eyes went wide. "But..."

"Just do it!" she commanded, setting her own baton on the floor. Uneasily, Margaery copied her in a second.

"There's my good girls," purred Melara patronisingly. "Always dancing to my tune."

Once more, Melara's smug manner raised Margaery's hackles, and she couldn't help biting back. "I don't think so, Melara. It is _you _that has danced to our tune. We have all the evidence we need to put you away for life so, if I were you, I would come quietly."

"Would you?" laughed Melara derisively, "because from where I'm standing, you haven't got shit on me, and now you've broken that ugly cow out of prison, you'll be going down too."

In response to Melara's provocation, Margaery let out a mocking snort. "Oh yeah, you think? Because we've got it all recorded, your entire confession. It's amazing what you'd do for the promise of Jaime's dick!"

"Margaery!" squawked Brienne, horrified that she'd spilled their secrets so easily while Melara was still holding a knife to Jaime's throat.

As expected, Melara's lip curled into a snarl before she tore her eyes away from Margaery and stared down at Jaime, who suddenly took on the expression of startled prey. "What have you done, lion cub?"

"I... I... I..."

"WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE?" she shouted, pressing the blade so tightly against Jaime's skin that a trickle of blood ran down his neck. "We love each other... why have you betrayed me?"

"Melara," he begged, his voice croaking, "please don't do this..."

"WHY SHOULDN'T I, JAIME? WE ARE AT CASTERLY ROCK, YOU ARE MEANT TO SAY YOU LOVE ME, NOT GIVE THOSE BITCHES AMMUNITION AGAINST ME."

To Brienne's horror, she could see that Jaime had run out of words and there was blood, so much blood, on his neck that she feared Melara had cut too deep. Seeing that knife pressed into his skin, Brienne realised she couldn't save him with her physical strength alone; by the time she got to Melara, she would have slit his throat. The only way to liberate Jaime was with her words.

"Melara," said Brienne quietly, not wanting to shout and spook her. "You say you love him, but can't you see he's bleeding?"

Tearing her eyes away from Jaime once more, Melara turned to look at Brienne, as if she had never heard anything so absurd. "So what? He can't see what's right in front of him."

"And what's that?" asked Brienne, her heart beating so fast she thought it might burst out of her chest.

Melara gazed down at Jaime, pressing her nose into his golden hair. "That I _love _him. That I've _always _loved him."

At Melara's declaration, Brienne stared at her, as if appraising her for the first time. She remembered the smooth, calculating alley cat who had arrived at the station several months ago, who had swerved around Jaime's feet like a particularly charming kitten. The woman before Brienne now was quite the opposite; wild-eyed and ferocious, Brienne almost felt pity for her.

_Almost_.

Keeping her voice soft, Brienne said, "Melara, this isn't love. If you loved him, you would think that seeing Jaime tied up and bleeding, seeing him hurt was the worst thing in the world. If I thought for a moment that letting him go would make him happier, would see him safe, I would do it in a heartbeat because, ultimately, Jaime is the most precious person to me in the world. I couldn't wilfully hurt him and, if you loved him, that's how you would feel too."

Brienne declaration settled in the air, heavy and burdensome on Melara, and freeing and uplifting to Jaime, who almost smiled. However, if Brienne had hoped it would calm her rival, it only worked to incense her.

"I _do _love him," Melara insisted, her voice rising with every word. "I _do._"

Brienne's answer was easy. "Then drop the knife and let him go. Let him be free to do whatever he wants, even if it breaks your heart. Think of him above yourself, because _that _is love."

"Like you always do that," snapped Melara accusingly. "He told me how you were cold with him when we went on patrol together, how you wouldn't talk to him. How is that loving? How is that putting him before you?"

Melara's accusation cut Brienne deep but, even so, she knew confession was good for the soul. "It wasn't loving, I admit. It was selfish, wrong, and about my insecurities more than my love for him. But I can see my behaviour for what it was, and I am trying my best to be better for him. We are going to go to couples’ therapy, we are going to..."

"No you are not!" screamed Melara suddenly, her anger returning, "because you are getting a divorce! That's what Jaime told you! He screwed you over and broke your heart for _me, _because he loves _me."_

"Then let him go," said Brienne again. "If you are so confident of his love, let him go."

Melara glared down at Jaime, the knife still pressed to his throat as if she were really considering freeing him. However, the moment passed instantly and then she looked back up at Brienne, her eyes aflame. "No. Not until he says it."

At that statement, Brienne knew that there was no way that Melara would ever let Jaime go until those words - _I love you, Melara _\- had left his lips. Looking away from her enemy, Brienne turned to Jaime, the man who owed her heart entirely, and gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "Say it, Jaime."

Margaery gasped and stepped forward, evidently trying to object, as Jaime's eyes filled with tears. "Brienne," he croaked, his voice barely audible over his sadness and the knife, "I've already said so many bad things."

"The things you said for love," she answered him reassuringly, hoping to convey that she didn't even think he needed her forgiveness for the lies he had told in her name, that she was grateful for everything he had done to try and save her. "I love you, Jaime, with all my heart. I _trust _you. I want you to be free so, please, for me. Say the words."

Brandishing her knife, Melara stared down at him and repeated Brienne's order. "Say the goddamn words!"

It took a few moments of Jaime looking desperately at Brienne and then down at the blade for him to find the will to say it. "Melara," he rasped, his voice cold and emotionless. "I love you."

Brienne had hoped that Melara would look overjoyed at the lie, that she would drop her knife and free Jaime in celebration. Instead, to Brienne's horror, her face contorted in an anger that was almost inhuman. "No!" she shouted, her spit flying into his hair. "You've got to mean it Jaime! This is meant to be the happiest day of my life, that's what Maggy said! That's what she _promised _me!"

Interrupting her mad rambling, Brienne slapped Melara around the face with the truth. "That's not all Maggy said though, is it, _little one,_" she murmured. At the evocation of the fortune teller's turn of phrase, Melara went white. Pressing her advantage, Brienne continued. "She told you that Jaime would say he loves you under the full moon at Casterly Rock on the happiest day of your life; I'll give it to you, you've set the scene well. But she also said that there would be another, one who he loves more. You will smell her breath. She will be close."

Melara started blinking in panic. "How do you know?"

"Sending me to prison with the only other witness to that prophecy was not the most intelligent thing to do," Brienne said carefully. "So, if I were you, I'd give it up. Maggy's prophecy has come true; Jaime said he loves you, but that is all you are ever going to get from him. It's over."

Watching her rival's face, Brienne could see the instant that the devastating truth sank in, as her jaw went slack and the tension left her shoulders. In the space between moments, Brienne watched as Melara considered her life; every decision that she had thought had been leading to Jaime was nothing but a lie. Daring to dream that it might cause her to drop the knife, Brienne watched with bated breath. It was not to be, however, as after a few agonising seconds, Melara lifted the blade from Jaime's neck and pointed it at Brienne.

"If I can't have him," she hissed, her tone venemous. "_No one _will."

At such a petty, jealous utterance, the time for words had finally passed. Not letting Melara have a moment to think, Brienne launched herself at her rival, pushing her straight off her feet and back onto the bed behind her. Although she was winded, Melara recovered quickly and, taking her advantage, lifted her knife and plunged it into Brienne's shoulder.

"You bitch!" Brienne screamed in an attempt to relieve the pain that was worse than the time she had been stabbed in the hand by a Father Christmas. "You fucking bitch!"

"Margaery!" came Jaime's voice from behind her. "Go find the others! Get help!"

The sound of quick footsteps told Brienne that Margaery had obeyed, but she didn't turn to look as Melara was reaching up, trying to pull the knife out of her shoulder to attack once more.

_Oh no you don't, _thought Brienne as she slapped Melara's hand away and reached for the knife herself. _Jaime took a bullet for me once, it's time I returned the favour!_

Yanking the knife out of her shoulder, Brienne screamed in agony as she pulled it out, tearing the flesh in her shoulder with the force of the blade's removal. Feeling suddenly thankful that the blood splattered over Melara's face, she threw the knife as far away as she possibly could from her crazed rival, and then bore down on her opponent with all the force she could.

"Get off me you fat cow!" screamed Melara, grabbing at Brienne's face to try and get at her eyes. The second she was close to being successful, Brienne used her superior weight and rolled Melara over so they both went crashing to the floor below the painting of Jaime. As they were both highly trained police officers, both Melara and Brienne were on their feet in seconds, ready for a fight.

Getting into the orthodox stance, Brienne prepared to box, drawing her hands up in front of her face. Being heavier and taller than Melara meant she had a significant advantage but, as her opponent always liked to remind her, she was willing to cheat. Furthermore, Brienne's arm was burning from the pain of the stab wound, and was also engaged in a battle just to stay conscious. Luckily for her, Jaime was willing to give tips.

"Wench! Left hook! Right hook! Uppercut! Duck! Fuck, she's just swerved, she's behind you. Spin around! Remember you've got a better reach. Fucking take her! You work me harder than this when we're in bed! Punch her! Hit her! Get up, wench! Get up! She's coming for you!"

With every punch, Brienne felt weaker and weaker, especially due to the overwhelming pain in her shoulder. Melara also seemed to grow more confident as the fight went on, evidently cheered by her superior stamini. "After I've killed you," she boasted, issuing a quick jab to Brienne's side, "I'll kill Jaime too. And... _oh, _how much fun that will be."

"If you think I would let you harm a hair on his head," shouted Brienne, "you've got another thing coming!"

"Who are you to stop me?" yelled Melara in response, her fury breaking, causing her to launch forward and aim for Brienne's wounds. Taking her chance, Brienne grabbed her by the collar and lifted her up off the floor, far enough away from her so Melara could not touch her, but close enough so Brienne could smell her breath.

"I'm Brienne Lannister-Tarth, bitch!" she shouted. "And if you ever come near my husband again, I'll make you wish you had never been born!"

Using all her strength, Brienne threw Melara backwards, launching her into the portrait of Jaime that hung on the wall. There was a sickening thud as Melara's head cracked onto the paintwork, and it caused the Queen of Hell to crumple to the floor, almost defeated. However, she got straight back to her feet and gave Brienne a hellish smile.

"If you think you are ever going to stop me, you've got another..."

Brienne did not hear what Melara intended to say, however, as it seemed that fourteen year old Jaime Lannister wanted his revenge. When Melara had collided with the painting, the old wiring that had kept it in place had snapped and, because of the particular weighting of the frame, the picture toppled forward. As the weight of paint, wood, and rock hard surround came crashing down, if fell straight on top of Melara, and the last thing Brienne saw before the portrait was totally obscured was Jaime's perfectly rendered green eyes smacking into Melara's stupid head.

If Brienne had had time to gloat over the sight of Melara lying unconscious under a huge portrait, she would have snickered at the irony of her being taken down by the fourteen year old boy she had fallen into such an obsession with. However, she had more important things to deal with. Running over to pick up the discarded knife that was red with hers and Jaime's blood, Brienne dashed back to her husband and set about cutting him free.

The second the ropes were severed, he fell into her arms, and the two of them just sat on the floor grasping at each other. "Wench," he sobbed, pressing his face into her good shoulder as she settled him between her legs and wrapped her whole body around him, "you're hurt."

"Not as badly as you," she replied, kissing the top of his head repeatedly just to make sure he was there and in her arms. Wanting to treat him with utmost care and affection he deserved, Brienne reached down and removed Jaime's prosthetic from her belt, before tenderly helping him put it back on so he didn't feel naked.

"Stop," Jaime wept, unable to look up at her. "I don't deserve such kindness from you."

"Why not?" she asked tilting his head up to look at her, horrified to see that his beautiful green eyes were filled with self-hatred.

"I lied to you... I broke your heart... I told you I wanted a divorce and that I regretted ever loving you. I _hurt _you. I can understand if you never want me back, if you..."

"Shhh," interrupted Brienne, trying to convey the depths of her feelings in kissing his cheeks, his eyelids, and his nose, and by running her hands through his golden hair. "You have nothing to apologise for..."

"I do," he insisted, "I do... she stabbed you, she framed you, and I played along with her game... I didn't spot it, I didn't..."

Brienne pulled him close, wanting him to feel her heat and her heartbeat, even though it meant getting her blood on his chest. "You don't need my forgiveness for any of that," she vowed, running her hand soothingly down his back. "I know you did what you did for _me, _because you love me, and I am so proud of you, Jaime. I love you so much, and now we can be together again."

"I don't want a divorce," he cried, squeezing her so tightly she thought he might never let go.

"Neither do I," smiled Brienne. "I just want to go home and be your wife."

"Melara Hetherspoon," came Margaery's voice from the other side of the room, accompanied by the sound of Robb Stark and the Hound yanking Melara out from underneath the painting of Jaime. Brienne had been so wrapped up in her husband, she had barely noticed the rest of the team come in. "I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Senelle Jones on 25th February, Taena Merryweather on 8th March, the attempted murder of Podrick Payne on 12th March, and the kidnapping, grievous bodily harm, and sexual assault of Jaime Lannister-Tarth on 8th July 2022. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."

Having been pulled to her feet, Melara had regained consciousness, and was consequently railing against the injustices of the world. "You bitch, Margaery, you've always hated me! And Brienne, oh! I will have my fucking revenge, I'll rip you in half, I'll kill you for what you've done! And if you think for a moment, Jaime, that you'll ever be free from me, you're sorely mistaken. You'll always love me, _always, _and there's nothing you can do to stop it!"

"Shut up Melara," grunted the Hound, shunting her across the room as he put her in handcuffs. "Nobody wants to hear your delusions anymore."

"They're not delusions," she shouted as their colleagues pulled her towards the door. "Brienne and Jaime both know it! They know that I..."

But Brienne did not care to listen to whatever Melara's latest accusation would be. Cupping Jaime's cheeks, she whispered. "It's over. I promise."

"But what about your conviction?" he asked fearfully. "What about your stab wound? What about the fact that we helped you escape from prison?"

"I imagine that one of our colleagues has called the Lannisport Constabulary to sort out all this mayhem," she smiled, stroking his face. "Thanks to you, we have Melara's confession, and it's only a matter of time before I am free and the justice system sees that our friends broke me out for a good cause. Now, as for my stab wound, you once took a bullet in the shoulder for me, so I sort of see this as a kind of matching couples' tattoo."

For the first time since she had entered the room, Jaime gave her one of his breathtakingly beautiful smiles. "You still want to be with me?"

"Forever and always," Brienne promised, echoing the words he had used on the phone to her back when she was in prison. "And once I am out, we are going to put all this right. We are going to go to couples’ therapy and learn how to communicate with one another, so we can both be the best versions of ourselves for each other. We are going to go to a proper fertility specialist so we can have a baby together, because there's nothing more I want in the world than to complete our family."

"I want that too," he whispered, bringing his hand up in a mirror of hers to stroke her face. Brienne could not help but lean into his touch. "I love you, wench."

After so long apart, Brienne thought it was the most gloriously wonderful thing she had ever heard. "I love you too, Jaime."

And then she was kissing him, and nothing else mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes... no more Melara! I hope you liked that, I kinda found it satisfying she was taken out by a portrait of Jaime! Please let me know what you think in a lovely comment; each and every one makes me a better writer!
> 
> Next chapter... Brienne and Jaime rebuild their life together...


	27. Beyond the Bars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the days after the confrontation, Jaime and Brienne take the first steps towards rebuilding their life together...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late! I'm probably now going to upload in two day intervals (because for some reason I always find the concluding part of any story hardest to write)!
> 
> Now, just a brief warning with this one: there is discussion of sexual assault. It is quite mild, but just FYI.

Brienne did not quite know how long she had been clinging onto Jaime for when Lannisport's Chief Inspector came over and tapped her on the shoulder. Giving her a sympathetic look, he tried to encourage her to remove her arms from around her husband, but in her fear for Jaime's wellbeing, she did not budge.

"Chief Inspector Lannister-Tarth," the Lannisport Chief said, the use of her title the first sign that this ordeal was nearly over. "I'm really sorry, but I have to take you to the paramedics to inspect your shoulder before we return you to prison."

Even as Brienne slumped in resignation, Jaime held on tighter. "You can't take her," he rasped, looking up at the Chief Inspector accusingly. "She's innocent, we have the evidence she's innocent. She can't go back to prison... she can't!"

The Chief Inspector gave them both a sympathetic look. "I know you have the evidence, but we can't just free Brienne. There is bureaucracy involved in these things."

Jaime tried to protest, but Brienne silenced him by putting two fingers on his lips. "It doesn't matter, Jaime. It won't be for much longer..."

"But we've just got back together again!" he moaned. "You can't go back to prison! You can't! You've got to come home with me!"

She kissed him to reassure him, wanting to convey there was nothing to worry about. "Why don't you come and see the paramedics with me, eh?" she asked gently, trying to distract him. "That cut on your neck is bad; someone should take a look at it." Through some gentle touches, Brienne managed to convince Jaime to stand up. Holding him close against her, Brienne walked him back out into the corridor, where Samwell Tarly was taking Margaery's blood pressure, surrounded by the rest of the team. Margaery lit up when she saw Brienne and Jaime approaching arm in arm.

"So good to see you two on your feet," Margaery grinned, resting her hand on her stomach. "It got a bit hairy in there for a moment."

"It did, but we're alright," smiled Brienne before turning to Samwell. "I'm sorry to interrupt, by Jaime has a really nasty cut on his neck. Can you please take a look at it? It can't get infected..."

"And my wench was stabbed in the shoulder. It didn't look like it went in too deep, but still you need to have a look at it...

"Look at him first though," insisted Brienne.

"No, look at _her _first..."

The Hound rolled his eyes. "Oh, look at both of them, Sam, for everyone's peace of mind."

Brienne kept her fingers on Jaime's neck as he pressed his palm into her shoulder, and they stayed that way until Sam managed to look them over one at the time. While Jaime's wound turned out to be quite superficial, Brienne's was a little more substantial. "I'm only going to patch you up, for now," Sam said to Brienne, giving her a dim smile, "I'm sure they'll look at it more closely once you get to Lannisport Jail."

"She's _not _going to Lannisport Jail," insisted Jaime suddenly, unnecessarily aggressive to the uninvolved Sam. "She's been proved innocent; she's coming home with me."

Robb Stark let out a bark of laughter. "Come on, Jaime. You know how this all works. Brienne had been convicted of a string of murders; they're not just going to let her walk away on one shaky video. It will take time. And if it makes you feel better, it's not just Brienne who will be going to Lannisport Jail."

His eyes went wide. "What?"

"We all will be," interjected Jon. "The Lannisport Constabulary are just getting everything in order, and then they'll be taking us all to prison for breaking the Chief out. Well, everyone except you, Jaime. You didn't have a direct hand in it, after all."

For the first time since Melara had been taken away, Brienne felt horribly uneasy. "But Jaime can't be left on his own tonight; he's just been kidnapped, cut, and that evil bitch put her hands all over him. It won't do him any good to be alone. He needs support... friends..."

As Jaime nuzzled Brienne's cheek with his nose at her obvious concern, all the members of the Casterly Constabulary looked at each other; they didn't have an answer to that. Luckily, it seemed Samwell Tarly did. "If it would make things easier for you all, Jaime could come and stay with Gilly and I tonight. We have a spare bedroom, if it would help."

Jaime smiled at him. "Thanks for the offer Sam, but it won't be necessary. Brienne is not going to go back to prison; she's coming home with me."

Cupping his cheeks with her hands, Brienne made Jaime look at her. "My love, you've got to be sensible..."

"I _am _being sensible," he moaned, like a grumpy child who wasn't getting his own way. "I can't let them take you away from me again. Not tonight, I _need _you. I need you..."

"It won't be for long," said Margaery soothingly. "And anyway, in the morning you could always call Tyrion or Bronn and go for a drinking session at _The Inn at the Crossroads_ to blot out all your problems."

"And I'll be out before you know it, I promise you," added Brienne, building on Margaery's reassurances. "You were so brave and got her confession; how can they keep me behind bars?"

* * *

As it turned out, they couldn't. The rest of the Casterly Constabulary were all let off after one night in the cells, once Aurane had been interviewed and Melara's confession became widely disseminated. Brienne wasn't so lucky; as she had been tried and convicted, the paperwork had to be compiled and sent to the judge, Ilyrio Mopatis, who originally sentenced her. In the light of Melara's confession, there was a special dispensation for Brienne to be released on bail until Melara's trial and, consequently, she was freed from Lannisport Jail after a week. After being given a clean change of clothes that were not prison orange, Brienne was told that she would be released at 5pm and that her family had been informed so someone would be there to collect her. Internally bubbling with excitement, Brienne could barely wait to see everyone, especially Jaime.

_Jaime, my love, _she thought, _I hope you are okay._

At 5pm, Brienne finally made her walk to freedom. Stepping outside into a glorious August afternoon, she squinted as she looked across the car park of Lannisport Jail. Gathered around a fleet of police cars was _everyone _who mattered to her - her dad, Margaery, Robb, Robb, the Hound, Ilyn, Jon, Pod, Sansa, Tyrion, Shae, Pia, Arya, and Gendry - and once they saw her, they all let out a little cheer. Not Jaime, though; he wasn't content with standing and meekly waving. The second her husband set his eyes on her, he was sprinting full pelt across the car park, and without a second thought Brienne found herself doing the same thing. Throwing herself into his arms, Brienne found herself lifted off the ground, Jaime grabbing her arse in his effort to keep her steady. Wanting to help, she locked her legs around his hips, her arms around his neck and then kissed him with everything she had. As she ran her tongue along his teeth, Jaime let out a happy little moan into her mouth and pulled her closer.

When he broke the kiss, his eyes were shining. "Wench, you're free."

"I am, my love," she smiled, planting a kiss on his forehead. "All thanks to you. And now we can go home."

"We can," he agreed, his voice breathy. "We can."

They kissed a little more until their friends finally caught up with them, and then Tyrion let out a small cough. "Brienne, you are aware your dad is here."

Feeling the reassuring presence of Selwyn Tarth behind her, Brienne squeezed Jaime's hips with her thighs before letting go, leaving him to put her down gently. Even so, Jaime kept his hands on her hips. "Sorry, Selwyn," he said, barely able to stop the huge smile breaking across his face, "I'm monopolising your daughter."

"Don't worry son, it's nice to know she's well cared for," replied Selwyn, which caused Brienne to draw him into a happy hug.

After Brienne had hugged everyone at least twice (and Jaime at least fourteen times), Margaery had an announcement. "Right, I think we've all had enough of standing in a car park. Shall we go back to mine for the barbeque?"

"Barbeque?" asked Brienne, as Jaime slipped an arm around her waist.

"Yes," he smiled. "Margaery, Robb, and I went and bought all the supplies this morning for a proper party. We need to celebrate."

"I hope you've got chicken nuggets," said the Hound.

Margaery patted him on the shoulder. "Of course, Sandor. We've always got chicken nuggets. We know you wouldn't turn up unless we did."

The weather was being remarkably accommodating when they finally got back to Margaery's. Robb wasted no time in firing up the barbeque, while the Hound and Jon joined him in huddling around it, staring at the flames like a couple of cavemen. Robb Arryn and Selwyn were rooting around in the big beer cooler, trying to find their exact favourite brand, while Pia and Sansa were asking for requests. In the corner, Pod, Shae, and Tyrion were setting out the nibbles on another table, just as Arya and Gendry were trying to find some good music. The most enthusiastic, however, was Margaery as even though she was eight months pregnant, she had set up a bar in the garden and was making cocktails with Ilyn.

"Brienne!" she called as Brienne and Jaime approached. "Do you want some Sex on the Beach?"

"Depends," teased Brienne, "whether you're talking about that cocktail you're making or a fun activity I can do on holiday with my husband."

"The former," replied Margaery.

Leaning across to take Jaime's hand, Brienne laughed. "Oh, I'm not interested then."

Smirking, Jaime whispered in her ear, "you are so bad, wench."

"What? I've missed you," she replied, smiling. "It could be a fun holiday."

Margaery rolled her eyes as Brienne started nuzzling Jaime's neck. "I haven't made all these for no one to drink them. Come on, indulge me."

Although Jaime took one for the team and selected a putrid pink cocktail, Brienne was a little more reticent. "The first time I ever drank your cocktails, Margaery, I ended up propositioning a gay guy and rejecting the love of my life. Your cocktails force me to make poor life choices."

"Or maybe _you _just make poor life choices," replied Margaery, shoving a mojito into her hand. "Come on, let's celebrate!"

"Come on, wench," said Jaime gently. "You deserve a drink."

She leant in and gave him a quick kiss. "Oh alright, you and your handsome face have persuaded me as usual."

"I try," he smirked.

After they had their first cocktail, Jaime and Brienne had a second, and then a third, before finally having a burger from the barbeque, followed by a fourth. By that point in the evening, the barbeque had well and truly turned into a party, as Arya had turned the music up. Her selection was the cheesiest imaginable, so on certain songs people started singing along. As the familiar intro of a particular song started, Drunk Robb Stark let out a squawk.

"Oi! Jaime, Brienne!" he cried. "This is your song! You need to come dance!"

Brienne listened for a few more moments before recognising it, causing her to exclaim, "no it's not, Robb! Our song is Ed Sheeran's _Thinking Out Loud. _This is Marvin Gaye's _Let's Get It On."_

"I know," Drunk Robb smiled cheekily, "it's just with all the sexual antics you two have got up to at the station over the years, this _should _be your song."

"Robb!" squeaked Brienne, before dropping to a dramatic whisper, "you can't say stuff like that! My dad is just _there._"

"Oh, don't worry about me, pumpkin," said Selwyn airily, taking what must have been his millionth beer out of the cool box. "I am aware you have a healthy sex life, that's fine with me."

At that, Jaime let out a huge snort of laughter as Brienne buried her face in his shoulder. "Nobody look at me," she commanded. "I can't bear it. I want the ground to swallow me up right this second."

"I'd prefer it if you came and danced with me," said Jaime, still laughing, bumping his hips with hers.

"It's not our song," she replied huffily, only then looking up.

"It's a description of what we are going to do later then," Jaime smirked, taking her hand. "Come on, humour me."

"You're drunk," she jokingly complained. "And I swear Margaery's drugged these drinks to make us all extra lively."

Brienne knew it was totally the wrong thing to say the second his face dropped like a stone.

_Fuck, I'm an idiot._

"Jaime," she said gently, "I'm sorry, I didn't think."

He gave her a false smile. "Don't worry, wench. It's fine."

Ignoring their friends' calls to join in the dancing, Brienne gazed at Jaime, who she knew well enough to know when he was trying to put on a brave face. "Come with me, my love. Let's go and talk."

"I promise I'm fine," he insisted, totally unconvincingly.

She looked at him with reproach. "Jaime, I know what it's like to let stuff eat you up and not talking to anyone about it. You've been mostly alone for the past week; come with me and we can have a little chat and a cuddle."

He went a very sweet pink colour. "You're still drunk."

"So are you," she smiled. "But I still want to talk."

After a few seconds, he nodded, "okay, wench, let's talk." Then he permitted her to lead him away. They ended up in Margaery's downstairs bathroom because it was the only place that Brienne could be sure no one would interrupt. Once they were inside and she had locked the door, Brienne wrapped her arms around him in such a way that he could rest his head in the crook of her neck, his stubble scratching her skin. As she held him, Jaime let out a huge contented sigh.

"I'm sorry I made an insensitive joke," she whispered, "especially after what Melara did."

At the mention of the she-devil, Jaime stiffened in Brienne's arms. "Don't say her name."

"Okay," she replied, trying to soothe him by carding her fingers through her hair. "Do you want to talk about it? What she did?"

Jaime looked up into Brienne's eyes, the light in the room making the bandage covering the cut on his neck appear white against his skin. "She touched me while I was unconscious, Brienne. It wasn't that big a deal."

"I don't want to upset you," said Brienne slowly, trying to work out the most tactful way to put it, "but it _is _a big deal, Jaime. She drugged you and then sexually assaulted you. It's okay if you have shit to deal with because of that."

Jaime dropped his gaze from her face. "I don't want to upset _you_."

Brienne put her hand on his cheek, partly to tilt his head so she could look at him, but most importantly so he could feel all the love and care she felt for him in the heat of her palm. "Why do you think this will upset me?"

He shrugged as if he wasn't bothered, "because I'm your husband and she touched me in a way only _you _should touch me... and I didn't stop it."

"Jaime," she chided, "how could you have stopped it? You were unconscious!"

"The last thing I remember before going under was her kissing me on the lips," he admitted, his eyes taking on a distant look, "and then when I woke up, she had me tied to a chair in a bedroom in Casterly Rock, my shirt was open and she was trying to undo my flies."

"Oh, my love," said Brienne gently, pressing her forehead to his.

"I distracted her, thank god, so she stopped," he said, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down in his throat, "but still it was a close shave."

Wanting to make him feel better but not really knowing how, Brienne kissed him. Momentarily fearful this was the wrong approach, she was therefore pleased when he responded by sucking her bottom lip into his mouth and took the time to tease it with his teeth. They stayed like that for a while, just kissing, playing and holding each other. Brienne hoped that the longer she did it, the more Melara's ghost was exorcised. Jaime seemed to agree.

"Wench," he whispered after eventually breaking their kiss.

"Yes?"

"Will you touch me?"

Brienne looked into his eyes and found his expression utterly sincere. "In what way?"

"I want you to unbutton my shirt," he admitted tentatively. "I want you to run your hands over my chest, so I feel you and not her anymore."

"Of course, my love," said Brienne, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. "Of course."

She went about her work very cautiously. Starting at his top button, Brienne undid Jaime's shirt very slowly, taking time to trace the tips of her fingers over each new expanse of skin that was revealed. By the fourth button, her exploration had revealed much of his chest hair, and Brienne was careful to make sure she curled her fingers through it just the way she knew he liked. His breath hitched in his throat as she did so.

"Is this good?" Brienne asked, afraid the answer would be no.

"Yes," he replied breathlessly, "it's good. Please keep going."

Once all the buttons were undone, Brienne reached up to take the shirt off, revealing his muscular shoulders and toned arms. Her throat went dry as she took her time running her hands over those parts of him too, and made sure she interlocked her fingers with his when she reached his left hand. At that spark of intimacy, Jaime took a step forward, kissing her in such a way that their bodies pressed together. She moved back when she felt something poking her thigh.

"Jaime!"

The corners of his mouth curled up in a smile. "I've missed you, wench. I'm pleased to see you."

"I'm pleased to see you too," she replied nervously, becoming conscious of the fact she was starting to get a little damp.

"I'm glad," Jaime smiled, drawing their interlocked hands to his lips for a kiss. "I'm so glad."

As her blush began to deepen, Jaime tilted his head quizzically. "Brienne?"

"Yes?"

"Will you touch me _there?"_

"There?" she repeated, even though she did know where he was referring to.

"_There_," he nodded, lowering their hands towards that place. "I've missed you _so _much and... I've had months and months with only my left hand."

"And I've had months and months with only my fingers and my fantasies," she replied, moving beyond pink into a deep red. "If I touch you _there, _will you touch me _there _too?"

The way he bit his lip in excitement was the only answer she needed and, for a good few moments after that, Jaime did not use anymore words; his lips were upon hers, his tongue entangled with hers, his left hand trying desperately to undo her flies. However, it was not a fair fight, as she had reached his cock first and was quickly working him to hardness. With every stroke, their pleasure built in unison.

"Oh Brienne," he groaned as she set up a rhythm of firm, smooth strokes, "I've longed for this."

"I've longed for _you_," she replied, letting out a little gasp as his fingers finally reached the warm wetness that she had barely been able to hide. "God, every night I touched myself and thought of you, but a fantasy is nothing like... ah... ah... nothing like actually taking you inside me."

Thrusting into her fist, Jaime gave her an earnest look. "Fuck, I _love _you."

"I love you too," she replied, dropping kisses onto his cheeks. "Please, Jaime. Take me. Please. I can't wait any longer."

This time, there was no delicate kissing, teasing, or foreplay that they normally liked to engage in. The months that separated them from their last sleepy fuck made them both desperate, and soon Brienne was helping Jaime get his trousers over his hips, before she did the same with hers. Once she kicked her legs free, Brienne jumped up onto the counter behind her and spread her thighs, not caring that they were in Margaery's downstairs bathroom and there was a party going on outside.

Taking his cock in hand, Jaime slid it through her silky wetness, making Brienne keen. "Please, Jaime. _Please."_

Giving her a coy smile, he lined himself up at her entrance. "I think I can still hear _Let's Get It On _outside."

"Perfect, it's the perfect song, its..." Then he slid inside her, and she lost her train of thought. Barely giving her a moment to adjust, Jaime retreated again only to thrust deeper the second time, letting out a satisfied moan as he did so.

"Have you missed my cock inside you?" he gasped as he began to set a steady pace, urgent but not yet frantic. "Because I've missed you, Brienne. You're so warm and ... urgh... tight and I love this so much. I love you. There's nothing like... ah... there's nothing like this in the world."

"We just fit," she replied, wrapping her legs around his hips, daring him to go harder and deeper and _faster. _"You and me, we're just meant... for... _oh. _Oh god... fuck... I love you. How can you feel so good?"

Silencing her with a deep, passionate kiss, Jaime's tongue mirrored what his cock was doing - taking her, filling her - and Brienne could only hold on and let him ride her to completion. She knew he needed this; to feel powerful and in control after what Melara had done to him, and she was only too happy to oblige, only too happy to make him feel good.

"You're... so... big," she panted as Jaime used his left hand to spread her thighs further apart. "It's so much... too much to take..."

"Take it, wench," he ordered. "Take it. God, you're too much of a woman for me... too much..."

Just then, he grasped her hip, his fingers digging into her bare flesh, and used the leverage to pump harder and faster, so their hips were mating in an innate ritual so beautiful and so natural it made Brienne want to sing. Grasping hold of Jaime's shoulders, she watched as he closed his lovely eyes, surrendering himself to the pleasure of being inside her, being as one in a way only they could be together. With every powerful thrust, Jaime hit the little bud at the top of her folds that made Brienne almost explode with pleasure. It was too good, too sweet, after so long apart.

"Fuck me, Jaime!" she cried. "Oh fuck yes! I've missed you so much! God, I can't take it anymore! I love you! Please! Please!"

Jaime seemed to be lost to intelligible sentences, yet still he joined her in this shouted conversation, born of the fact they were both teetering on the edge of release. "Fuck... love... love... you... fucking... love... you... wench... ah... ah... ah..." It was her calling his name that finally made him ejaculate inside her - full and fast and hot - and, acknowledging what he had done, Brienne's body replied with her own release. Immense and beautiful, it was a type of mating that had been so primal it provided her with her own constellations of stars behind her eyes.

"Oh Jaime..." Brienne gasped, cupping his face so she could look him straight in the eye as his body slumped against hers. 

"That was so good," Jaime murmured breathlessly, pressing kisses onto her lips, careful and reverent. Holding him close, Brienne kept him on his feet as he struggled with the strength of his release; loving him and kissing him as he came down from his high. When, finally, their breathing steadied, Jaime gave Brienne the best news she had heard in weeks.

"She's gone."

"Gone?"

Looking closely, Brienne searched Jaime's eyes for confirmation that the shade of Melara Hetherspoon's greedy hands had well and truly receded and that it was only him and his happiness that now resided within. Although she saw the truth in those green eyes she loved so well, he also affirmed it in words.

"Gone," he repeated, evidently relieved. Jaime's smile was so breathtakingly beautiful in its sincerity, that Brienne felt more liberated than she had when she left Lannisport Jail. "And we're together now... forever."

"Forever and Always," she agreed, which earned her another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH! I hope you enjoyed that! As ever, I would love to hear from you in the form of a comment or kudos, so please consider it!
> 
> PS. I have no idea how long it takes someone to be freed from prison after a miscarriage of justice is identified. So I just went with a week for plot reasons that will become apparent in the next few chapters :D
> 
> Next chapter... Jaime and Brienne learn how to communicate...


	28. Mending Old Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne start putting their life back together...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter has taken a while. I know nothing about fertility treatments or miscarriages of justice or couples' therapy, so had to do a bit of research. I hope you enjoy it and if you do (or if you don't) please consider leaving a comment or kudos!
> 
> Once again, I am now on tumblr. Find me at "seethemflying".

They stayed like that for a bit, just hugging and kissing, until Jaime had softened and withdrawn. As Brienne jumped off the counter, Jaime searched around for a flannel, which he eventually found hidden in a cupboard. Wetting it, he then walked towards Brienne and started to gently clean the inside of her thighs, all the while fixing her with a smirk.

"Shut up," she laughed.

"I didn't say anything," he smiled.

After he had finished, Brienne took the flannel from him, wetted it once more, and then cleaned him up. "Hurry up wench," he complained, "or you'll make me want to go again."

"What's so wrong with that?" she teased.

He leant forward and kissed her. "We're not at home yet. Next time we do it, I want to snuggle afterwards."

Turning away from him to wash the flannel, Brienne couldn't help but laugh. "You are such a sentimental old fool sometimes."

"Always when it comes to you," he purred, kissing her on the neck in such a way that it made her shiver.

After they had both got dressed, Brienne found a deodorant and sprayed the room so much it made Jaime cough, before taking his hand. "Right, no one will be any the wiser."

"I'm sceptical," Jaime said. Narrowing her eyes at him, she asked him why. "Because you are wearing your _just fucked by my well-hung husband _face. It's a dead giveaway."

Brienne snorted. "There's no such thing."

"There _is _such a thing," he smirked, "so try to suppress it, wench, or everyone will be onto us in ten seconds flat."

They decided to leave the downstairs bathroom one at a time - Jaime went first, her following - but even so, once she reached the garden, she discovered no one was bothered about them. Everyone had migrated to the bottom of the garden so, catching up with Jaime, she took his hand and walked down to see what was happening.

"What's going on?" asked Brienne confusedly, just as she noticed her dad and Tyrion sitting on the floor in the middle of the circle, sharing a can of beer, both staring blankly into the distance.

Robb Stark let out a huff of laughter. "They've just got the Casterly Police Station Experience, and it can be a bit of a shock the first time."

"What's the _Casterly Police Station Experience?" _inquired Jaime, matching Brienne in the confusion stakes.

Margaery rolled her eyes. "Let's just say you two morons forgot to check if the bathroom window was closed."

Brienne suddenly felt very, very sick. "Oh."

Bronn snorted at that. "I had just arrived and got very confused, because I thought I'd been invited to a barbeque, not an orgy."

"Please," said Tyrion, wrinkling his nose as he held up an objecting hand. "I've heard more than I ever wished or wanted to this afternoon, and I'm sure Selwyn is traumatised for life."

"I mean, of course I know my daughter and her husband must... errr... copulate_,_" said Brienne's dad distantly, "I just didn't really want to _know._"

"Please don't say copulate in relation to my brother," begged Tyrion. "Please."

At that statement, Jaime put his arm around Brienne's shoulders and said something that surprised her. "Actually, I object to the term _copulate _in relation to me and my wife too. It's too... scientific."

Tyrion suddenly looked absolutely stunned and fixed his brother with a wide-eyed stare, while pointing at him accusingly. "Don't you dare go campaigning for us to say _making love _in relation to you and Brienne or some other romantic shit. I will not say it, especially after what I've just heard."

"We're sorry," said Brienne meekly, "it's just been... a long time since we've seen each other properly."

The Hound outright laughed at that. "Oh, you're not sorry at all. That's just usual behaviour for you two."

"Yeah you are right," replied Jaime with a shrug. "Well, at least I'm not sorry... only that we probably should have closed the window. Is there any beer around here? I'm thirsty."

"Jaime," said Brienne admonishingly, "we've just traumatised everyone. You can't just say you are not really sorry and then ask for a beer."

He gave her one of his prettiest smiles. "Why not? Life's too short. Come on, wench, have a drink with me."

She objected for a few more minutes but, when she finally conceded to Jaime's _not giving a shit _plan, Brienne discovered that her husband's devil-may-care attitude about the whole situation worked much better at alleviating the tension than her apologetic panic, because soon he had everyone drinking a beer and talking about other things.

_And that, _she thought, _is one of the million and one reasons I love him._

* * *

Some things were fixable with kisses and sex, others needed actual words.

Doctor Val Rayder was the couples' therapist that Doctor Aemon had recommended, and she was based out of Lannisport, meaning it was easy for Jaime and Brienne to get to. They booked their first session on a Saturday afternoon, which meant they were able to go to the pretentious French restaurant for dinner and then see some stupid rom-com at the cinema afterwards. Even though they had given themselves something to look forward to, Brienne still felt very anxious as she and Jaime sat together in Val's waiting room.

"You look a little pale," Jaime said, nudging her ribs.

"I'm just nervous," she replied, giving him a sad smile. "We're going to spend an hour talking about what a shit wife I am and how amazing you are, after all."

Jaime smirked at her. "Oh, I _am _sorry, it's just such a chore being this fabulous, that I have to get it off my chest sometimes."

"Your arrogance knows no bounds, Sergeant Lannister," she laughed affectionately, shaking her head.

To her surprise, his smile dimmed. "Sergeant Lannister-_Tarth, _wench. I am yours and you are mine, remember?"

Worried she had hurt him, Brienne lifted a hand and ran her fingers through his hair. He leant into her touch. "I know... it's just... when you are being all cocky and sexy, you'll always be Lannister to me."

That they were kissing when Val came out of her office was entirely due to the smug smile Jaime wore after that comment and to Brienne's disappointment, they had to break apart when Val fixed them with a knowing look. "Jaime and Brienne Lannister-Tarth, I presume?"

"Yes, that's us," said Brienne, getting to her feet. Once Jaime was standing beside her, she took his hand.

"Good," smiled Val, "if you would like to come this way, I can get you both a cup of tea."

It took ten minutes for the three of them to be settled in Val's office with a soothing cuppa, and for Val to tell them all about her method and approach. Then, once they were all comfortable, she posed them a question. "So, can each of you in turn tell me why you think you are here."

Brienne plumped for: "I have communication issues. I spent several years in therapy for self-esteem issues, and sometimes they get to me and affect my ability to speak to Jaime."

Jaime went for: "We sometimes get our wires crossed and struggle to tell each other what is wrong."

Val jotted all that down on her notepad carefully, before taking a sip of her tea. After that, she turned back to Brienne and gave her a small smile. "So, could you please elaborate on what you determined was the root cause of your self-esteem issues with your previous therapist."

Brienne looked at Val - beautiful, elegant, Val - and was suddenly struck by the fear that this attractive woman could never understand. "I'm ugly," she said simply, not wanting to shy away from the truth. "And nobody has ever let me forget that."

At that statement, Jaime reached out and took her hand. Squeezing her fingers, he said, "Brienne, I _hate _it when you talk about yourself like that..."

"I'm not upset, I promise," she replied, keeping a hold of his hand. "It's just _true _and it has had a huge impact on my self-esteem."

"But since we've been together you've been so much better at coping with that feeling, even though it is categorically _not true._"

Brienne couldn't help but smile; he was always so unrelentingly supportive. "I know I have been. Doctor Aemon gave me lots of methods to be able to manage the negative thoughts so much so that, to be honest, this year when we've been dealing with... _her, _it's not been the ugly issue that came up, it's been other things..."

Jaime went to speak, but Val put a hand up to interrupt. "Before we continue, I would just like to put a pin in both _her _and _other things _to come back to later in the session, but I would just like to establish first whether you both think Brienne's conception of her own attractiveness has had an impact on your relationship?"

To Brienne's surprise, Jaime gave an answer a lot quicker than she did. "A huge impact, absolutely huge."

"Why do you say that?" asked Val, her pen poised.

"Because it stopped her trusting my love for her for _ages,_" said Jaime earnestly."We would have also got together a lot quicker than we did if Brienne hadn't been so locked in her own perceptions of herself, because she would have been more willing to look past her own anxieties to see that I adored her."

Val turned back to Brienne. "Would you say that is an accurate summation of the beginning of your relationship?"

"I suppose..." said Brienne, trying not to feel guilty, "but at the time I felt like it was only natural to be distrustful of his feelings."

"Why?" asked Val seriously, as if the answer wasn't obvious.

Brienne furrowed her brow, before gesticulating wildly in Jaime's general direction. "Because look at him! He's bloody gorgeous and was coming at me with all this ambiguously flirtatious stuff and it was intimidating!"

"Well," said Jaime, raising an eyebrow at her. "I don't think asking you to sit on my face was what you would call _ambiguously flirtatious, _but each to their own I suppose."

"Jaime!" Brienne squawked. "Why do you always have to be so...?"

"What?" he smiled, obviously trying to bait her.

Brienne just gazed at him incredulously. "How are you always so unashamed of what we do together?"

Jaime looked at her confusedly. "There's nothing to be ashamed of in what we do. We love each other, don't we?"

"Of course we do," replied Brienne, impassioned, "but... you are always so happy to be trumpeting it from the rooftops. I know I sometimes join in with you, but, if I'm honest, it's always baffled me somewhat."

At that declaration, Jaime smiled at her, all sunlight and shadow. "Because you're the only person who has ever really loved me, Brienne. Why would I be ashamed of that?"

* * *

For the rest of the session, Val had Jaime and Brienne talking through exactly what made the latter distrustful of their love and it ranged from everything to self-esteem issues to not being able to give him a baby, to _her. _Val picked through each one at a time, allowing space for Jaime to reaffirm his love for his wife without interfering too much as Brienne span her feelings out into the air. By the end of the session, she gave them her professional opinion.

"Now, I think I agree with Jaime's view, Brienne, that you are _much _better at dealing with and communicating your self-esteem issues than you were at the beginning of your relationship, but that the conjunction of your fertility issues and... _her_... led to a total tailspin that hampered much of your good progress. In light of the current situation, therefore, I have a little task for you both."

"Both of us?" replied Brienne, surprised, "but surely it's just me with the problem?"

Val gave her a small smile. "We'll come to that next time, but for now, here is a task for both of you. At the end of the week, I want you both to write a letter to each other detailing any fears or worries you feel you need to get off your chest, as well as restating your love for each other. It doesn't have to be long; its purpose is just to get any small niggles off your chest. Do you think that is possible?"

"Yes," smiled Brienne, thinking that letter writing might sometimes be a better vehicle for communicating her feelings of inadequacy in the face of Jaime's perfection than by opening her mouth. He agreed too, and then after the session they had a lovely dinner and then a little kiss on the back row at the cinema, completely ignoring the stupid rom-com about a first date. Consequently, the next day, Brienne found it surprisingly easy to write Jaime her first letter.

_Dearest Jaime, I'm worried about our first fertility appointment. I'm scared I'll disappoint you. I love you to the moon and back, Brienne xxx_

She handed the folded bit of paper to him one day when they were sitting in front of the TV watching one of his favourite shitty reality shows, _Keeping Up with the Karstarks. _To her surprise, she had a letter back not long after, complete in his messy left hand scrawl.

_My beloved wench, I'm worried about our first fertility appointment too. I don't want you to be upset. I hate seeing you upset. Love, Jaime x_

Brienne kept Jaime's letter in her purse as they made their way to Olenna Tyrell's private fertility clinic a few miles away in Last Hearth at the end of the week. She had come at Margaery's recommendation after Brienne's best friend had suggested that she could be persuaded out of retirement for special cases.

"And you two are so fucking special I even persuaded her to give you a discount," grinned Margaery over her own enormous baby bump.

"Thank you," smiled Brienne sincerely, trying to keep the tears out of her eyes. "I just couldn't face going back to Doctor Marwyn."

"My pleasure," beamed Margaery, patting her on the shoulder.

In the past, Brienne had met Olenna Tyrell several times as, when she had first moved to Casterly, it had become a regular feature of her social calendar to go down to the local bingo hall with Margaery where Olenna was the teller. Although that particular engagement occurred less and less as time went on due to their increasingly busy lives, it had allowed Brienne to build a picture of Olenna as a strong, outspoken woman who took no shit from anyone. It soon rapidly became apparent that she continued that approach in her role as a fertility specialist.

"Oh, I hope you didn't listen to that old goat Marwyn," she grumbled.

Jaime looked at little alarmed at that statement. "Of course we did. He told us we would struggle to have children, and we were going to book another session with him... but then life got in the way."

"What exactly did he say to you?" asked Olenna, Brienne and Jaime's medical notes in her hands.

Brienne sighed. "He said that, considering my uterine scarring, that it wasn't impossible for us to have children but didn't want to give us false hope. He then gave us loads of brochures for infertility support groups."

Olenna made a disgusted sound at the back of her throat. "That man is so insensitive. I have your medical records here and the outlook is not nearly as bleak as he is suggesting."

Almost in spite of herself, Brienne's heart soared. "Really?"

"Really," said Olenna sagely. "What Marwyn never seems to understand, is that there's a big difference between out reproductive systems and those pathetic water guns that _they _have." By _they _Olenna clearly meant _men_, but she just stared at Jaime accusingly as a substitute. "Theirs are made for coming and pissing, whereas ours must release an egg, shed its uterine lining monthly, grow its own extra organ in the form of the placenta, and then sustain life for a whole nine months, before pushing a baby the size of a watermelon out of our bodies. Putting unnecessary stress on you, Brienne, as Marwyn has done, will not have been very helpful to your endeavours, as our very delicate systems react badly to such things."

"See," beamed Jaime, turning to Brienne and giving her hand a squeeze. "I knew it couldn't be that bad!"

Although there was no denying she felt optimistic, Brienne tried to reign herself in, and consider the issue with a level head. "But I still have the uterine scarring and slightly irregular periods. Would that mean IVF? I know that's expensive..."

Olenna gave her a reassuring smile. "First things first. We are going to put you on a drug called _clomiphene citrate _to increase your ovulation, and if you are still not pregnant in six months’ time, then we can start having a discussion about IVF."

As Olenna began writing up the prescription, Brienne turned to Jaime, who couldn't help but pull her in for a quick kiss. "I'm with you," he promised, "every step of the way."

"I know," Brienne replied, lifting her hand to stroke his cheek, before turning back to Olenna. To her surprise, she was smiling at them as if they were two unruly toddlers.

"Now," the old woman smiled, "the next stage is for you to get this prescription. Make sure to take it for five days, starting on the fifth day of your period. I know you said you've been taking your basal body temperature, Brienne, which will be vital for you to work out when you are ovulating."

"And what do I do when I know I am ovulating?" asked Brienne cautiously.

Olenna let out a dark chuckle. "Go at it like rabbits... which shouldn't be hard for you two, or so my granddaughter tells me."

Brienne blushed furiously, trying to ignore Olenna's last comment. "Is that it?"

"Of course," smiled Olenna, "there's no great mystery to it. Although there is one important thing to mention..."

"What?" asked Jaime.

"Don't let your desperate desire for a baby suck all the fun out of being together sexually," advised Olenna. "Because first and foremost, it's about you two expressing what you feel for each other, not just some scientific formula to produce a child."

Brienne couldn't help but sense Jaime's grin even when she wasn't looking at him as they left the fertility clinic. Once they were at the bus stop waiting to get back to Casterly, he put his arms around her, and Brienne discovered the reason for his smile."

"I told you that's what it is about," he purred. "I told you."

* * *

And quite suddenly, everything was back on track. Armed with her baby making spreadsheet and a commitment to making it about _them, _Brienne found sex with Jaime to be as fun and enjoyable as it had been at the beginning, devoid of the neurosis that had plagued it since the beginning of the year. It was so good, that Jaime even got the confidence to voice his deepest desires during the post-coital cuddling that now always concluded their times together.

"Brienne?" he asked one evening when they were wrapped up together under the covers, still naked.

"Mmm?"

He paused, looking for the words. "Can I ask you to do something for me?"

"Sure," she smiled, kissing the top of his head. "Anything. What is it?"

"Will you...? I mean... it's been a while since... would you like to...?"

"Yes?"

It all came out of his mouth in a rush. "Would you tie me up again? It's been a while since we did _that_, and we both used to enjoy it so much."

Almost in spite of herself, Brienne found she was quite tense at that suggestion. "I didn't think you would want to do it anymore..."

Jaime's eyes went very wide. "Why?"

She couldn't stop a lump coming to her throat at the memory. "Because that is what Melara did to you and... I wouldn't want you to think of me in the same way as her."

That confession took a while to settle in the air, mostly because both of them tried to push Melara Hetherspoon and what she had done to the corners of their existence as much as possible. Therefore, it took Jaime a while to come up with a response. "Firstly," he said firmly, looking Brienne straight in the eye, "never say her name in this bed. Never."

"Okay," agreed Brienne instantly, running her fingers through his hair to soothe him.

"And secondly," he continued, his voice softer, "it's not and will never be the same with you. When... _she _had me tied up at Casterly Rock with a knife to my throat, I was terrified. With you, it feels safe, fun, and sexy, so I would really like to try it again."

Feeling genuinely heart warmed that Jaime had admitted that was how he felt with her, Brienne drew him in for a tender kiss. "Of course we can do it again... although, can you give me a bit of time? I want to make it special for you, so I'll have to think of some ideas."

He gave her a mischievous grin. "Of course. You can have all the time you need."

Brienne had mainly suggested they wait because she really _did _want to make it special for him, and she wanted to get some suggestions from her friends in how to do so, because the thought of being all purposefully provocatively sexy still _terrified _her sometimes. However, it was not just that; Melara's trial was rapidly approaching, and Brienne wanted to make sure that she was well and truly out of their lives by the time she tied Jaime up, in an effort to reassure him it would only ever be safe, fun, and sexy with her and never terrifying under any circumstances.

As there was the question of the miscarriage of justice, Melara's trial had been organised for the beginning of September and, unsurprisingly, both Brienne and Jaime were being called as witnesses for the prosecution. Brienne's involvement was mainly limited to recounting the confrontation at Casterly Rock, so therefore Josmyn Peckledon was calling her up first. Jaime was going to be the star witness, given he was both the collector of Melara's confession and the object of her obsession, so Josmyn decided to end on a high and call him in last.

On the day of his testimony, Brienne did all she could to make him feel good. "You always look so handsome in this suit," she smiled, kissing him on cheek.

"Thanks," he said dolefully, in the place he might normally slip an arrogant joke.

Sensing he was nervous, Brienne drew her arms around his waist and rested her chin on his shoulder. "You know, it's not too late to give your testimony by video link, if you want."

"I don't want to give it by video link," said Jaime firmly. "I need to look her in the eye and tell her I don't want her."

"Why?" asked Brienne, genuinely perplexed. "You told her before, and she didn't listen. What makes you think this time will be different?"

Placing both his hands, flesh and prosthetic, over hers, Jaime said, "because the last time I saw her I told her I loved her, Brienne. I can't let her think that... I can't let _you_ think that."

She nuzzled her nose against his cheek. "I know it was a lie, sweetheart, and I know you did it for me, so please... don't feel bad about it."

"I'll try," he said, giving Brienne a sad smile.

As Jaime had given his evidence the day after Brienne, she was allowed to watch from the gallery, and she hoped and prayed he could feel all the love and good wishes she was mentally sending his way, especially when Melara started screaming at him.

"You're such a fucking liar, Jaime! You said you wanted me! You said you'd divorce that ugly cow for me! You said..."

_You said. You said. You said._

Even though Melara was found guilty on all counts and was sent to a psychiatric hospital for the incurably insane, seeing her again had obviously greatly shaken Jaime, as during their next session with Val, Jaime was learning to communicate his terror to Brienne.

"Melara always claimed she loved me," he croaked, his voice breaking as tears began to roll down his cheeks. Even though she knew they were in the middle of a couples' therapy session, Brienne couldn't help but wrap her arms tightly around him, "but she was just obsessed with me, and it hurt Brienne, and I did nothing to stop it..."

"You did _not _do nothing," said Brienne passionately. "You got her confession, Jaime!"

"But at what cost? I told her I loved her. I led her on. I told you I wanted a divorce."

"Words are wind," replied Brienne, kissing his cheek. "What you actually feel counts."

"And what do you feel, Jaime?" asked Val gently, "what is love to you?"

To Brienne's surprise, Jaime did not look at Val as he answered, but at his wife. "It's Brienne."

And then the truth came out. That Jaime had been looking, searching, and yearning for love for years before his wife, but had never found it. Not from his mother who died when he was very small, nor from his father who had _expectations, _nor from his sister who demanded constant compliance with her wishes, nor from Taena who wanted service in return for a scrap of affection. "Just Brienne," said Jaime quietly. "She's the only who has never asked for anything from me in return, and I so want to be worthy of that, I so want to please her."

"You _are _worthy," insisted Brienne passionately, "you do please me, every single day, even if I am not always the best at saying it in words."

Even though Brienne thought she was doing her best at being supportive, Val interrupted her. "How do you try to please Brienne, Jaime?"

"Well," he blushed, clearly digging around in the inky depths of his own soul. "I try to be good to her and look out for her, like she does for me. I always tell her I love her, so she doesn't forget, and I try to satisfy her in bed."

Dropping her voice, Brienne whispered in his ear. "You _do. _All the time."

At Jaime's declaration, Val smiled at them both. "This is a delicate question but, when you have sex, who is the dominant personality?"

Brienne thought about it because, in truth, it had always been Jaime who pushed for and directed the course of their sexual relationship. He seemed to disagree, however. "Brienne," he said firmly. "Always Brienne. I like it... we like it... when she's dominant over me."

In spite of knowing on some level that it was the truth, Brienne felt herself blushing with embarrassment. Val just smiled, before continuing her questioning. "And why do you think that is?"

Even though it was difficult, Brienne turned to look at Jaime, who was clearly mulling it over as much as she was. He got there a little sooner, however. "I suppose," he said, chewing over his words. "I like feeling surrounded by her. I like feeling safe, looked after... loved, like I haven't been before."

"And," began Brienne, adding a reflection to his answer, "I like feeling desired, wanted, and loved, like _I _haven't been before."

Val wrote that all down before giving her measured, professional opinion. "To me, it seems we have all the foundations for a long and happy relationship here, where you can both make excellent partners to one another and fulfil each other's emotional needs. Brienne, you clearly seek validation as a woman and as a sexual being from Jaime, and struggle when other women pay him attention - like Melara did - or when something that could be perceived as a threat to your femininity comes into play, your possible infertility, for example. You then struggle to voice that to your partner. Jaime, what you want most from Brienne is affection and recognition as a person who is deserving of love. You struggle when Brienne becomes cold and uncommunicative with you, and then in turn desperately try to please her, sacrificing yourself in the process. Surely you can both see how you could so easily slip from a supportive and loving relationship into one that exacerbates and heightens your pre-existing anxieties?"

"Yes," said Brienne, as the picture was suddenly fully illuminated. "Of course."

"The most important thing here, then, is _communication_," declared Val. "If you cannot do this verbally, expand the letter writing idea I gave you, or bring in a third party who could act as a mediator. Because it would be an utter tragedy to ruin a relationship shaped by such love over something as ridiculous as miscommunication."

* * *

So, they tried.

On Brienne's first day back at work, Jaime handed her a little note over breakfast.

_My most beloved wench, I am so looking forward to having you back at the station today. It hasn't been the same without you. And I can't wait until you tell everyone our decision. Love you forever, Jaime xxx_

To Brienne's surprise, it seemed that her colleagues had similar feelings too, as when she and Jaime walked into the station hand in hand, there was an almighty applause and Margaery, who should technically have been on maternity leave, turned up to set off a party popper. "It's so good to have you back!" she beamed, throwing her arms around Brienne's neck. "I know I haven't been here for the last few weeks, but it just isn't the same. Nobody has had sex in the evidence room in _months. _I'm sure it misses you and Jaime greatly."

"Thank god," grinned Robb Stark. "And in your absence, Robb and I have been eating cakes in our office and haven't been told off about it!"

"And I've had exactly zero of my mugs broken by your over-zealous cleaning!" grunted the Hound.

"I thought you all missed me," said Brienne sceptically. "This all just sounds like criticism."

"_Affectionate _criticism," insisted Margaery. "Now come on, surely we've got to have a staff meeting in your office?"

Jaime squeezed Brienne's hand encouragingly at that. "Oh god, yes," he laughed. "We've got to have a staff meeting!"

Brienne rolled her eyes. "Alright then, to my office!"

Two minutes later, the entire time were lined up in front of her desk, looking entirely too happy for a Monday morning meeting. "Now," she began. "First things first. As the courts of the land have decided my imprisonment was a miscarriage of justice, I have been informed that I am to be compensated."

"Ooooh," smiled Margaery, "but how much?"

"Apparently, a million pounds."

Margaery's mouth dropped open. "What?"

"I know," laughed Brienne. "And, to be honest, that's more money than Jaime and I would ever know what to do with."

"Buy a mansion," suggested Robb Arryn.

"Or a yacht," added Pod.

"Or maybe even a castle," grinned Jon.

Brienne shook her head. "Nah, I thought of something much better to do with it."

"What?" came the collective response.

"Well," said Brienne gently, "Jaime and I decided that as you lunatics all put your careers on the line breaking me out of prison, you might all want £100,000 just as a little thank you."

There was a silence so profound that, for a moment, Brienne thought she had insulted them. However, it was clear that she had succeeded in quite the opposite when Pod stammered, "Pia and I... could buy a house!"

"And Margaery and I's baby will be set up for life!" chimed in Robb Stark.

"And I could get Joff a live in dog groomer!"

Then before Brienne knew it, there were group hugs and cheers as if they had all simultaneously won the lottery, beat _The Chaser, _and got to the top of the tree on _Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? _With all her pregnancy hormones raging around her body, Margaery started full on weeping.

"WHY ARE YOU BOTH SO NICE?"

"Because we have so much sex, Margaery," added Jaime, unable to resist it. "I'm always high on dopamine."

Laughing, Brienne walked around the desk and swung an arm around his waist. "Which I am not ashamed of," she smiled, valuing more than ever the importance of communication.

"Neither am I," he grinned.

After a few more minutes of cheering and thank yous, Brienne finally got on top of the situation once more by raising her voice. "And secondly," she shouted. "I think it's only right that, now Margaery is on maternity leave, we rearrange the patrol rotas so Ilyn can go back to having a quiet life on paperwork."

The Hound looked at her quizzically. "Won't that mean someone is on their own?"

"No," said Brienne authoritatively. "I've thought of a plan. You and Pod can go on patrol together, and I'll put Jaime back on the beat too."

Even though he looked relieved at that, Jaime turned to her with a curious expression. "But then who will be my partner?"

Brienne grinned at him teasingly. "Me of course... at least until Sergeant Tyrell gets back off maternity leave."

At that proclamation, Margaery snapped her head around. "_Sergeant _Tyrell?"

"_Sergeant _Tyrell," said Brienne again. "As Central Office did such a shitty job of parachuting a sergeant into us last time, they've agreed to go with my recommendation in promoting you. What do you say?"

Margaery let out a scream that could have woken the dead and made everyone cover their ears. "OH MY GOD BRIENNE THIS IS SO AMAZING! NOT ONLY HAVE I JUST GOT ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND POUNDS OPRAH STYLE, I'VE ALSO BEEN PROMOTED!"

"I'm glad you are pleased," laughed Brienne. "Will you accept?"

"Of course I will accept!" yelled Margaery, running forward and kissing Brienne on both cheeks. Then, quite suddenly, she pulled away, fixing her best friend with a concerned expression. "On one condition."

"What's that?" asked Brienne.

"When you and Jaime go on patrol, you make sure the car radio is turned off."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! As ever, I love to hear from you in a comment, so please consider leaving one!
> 
> Next chapter... it's been nine months since Robb and Margaery got it on after the Christmas Party...


	29. Through the Window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been nine months since Robb and Margaery got together at the Christmas Party...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the lateness of this one! I've been struggling with it a bit the past few days (for some reason, I always do with the last few chapters of my fics). Anyway... I hope you enjoy. If you do, please leave comments and kudos!

"Come on," said Sansa coaxingly. "Let us see it."

"Yeah," agreed Shae. "You wanted out expert opinion, so here we are."

Brienne shook her head, even though Sansa and Shae couldn't see her expression because she was hidden behind the curtain of the changing room cubicle. "No... I'm not sure. It's too much."

"Why would it be too much?" asked Shae.

"Because it's lacy, frilly, ribbon-y... and it has an _Ellaria's _tag on it."

_Ellaria's _was of course the UK's premiere lingerie company and now, Brienne found herself standing in the changing room in a corset, stockings and suspenders, with Sansa and Shae waiting outside expectantly.

_This is all my fault, _she thought. _This is such a stupid idea._

"Brienne," cooed Sansa gently. "It's only a bit of lingerie. We'll check you look on point in it, and then when you get home you can unveil it to your husband, and Jaime will lose his little mind. It really is quite simple."

Brienne bit her lip. "I don't know... I think I'll get back into my own clothes."

"What would Margaery say if she was here right now?" huffed Shae.

"She'd probably tell me to stop being such a wuss."

"Exactly!" said Shae. "So come on! Let us see it!"

Sighing dramatically, Brienne pulled the curtain open tentatively, before stepping outside. Drawing her arms around her stomach, she turned to look at Sansa and Shae who were both grinning at her. "Yes!" beamed Shae. "He's going to love it!"

"Absolutely love it!" agreed Sansa, coming up behind Brienne so she could spin her around to face the mirror. For the first time, Brienne saw herself in the lingerie and she had to admit, she didn't look so bad; the black silk and the tight corseting gave her a feminine shape that she wouldn't otherwise have, and the stockings and suspenders made her legs seem even longer than they actually were.

"Do you think so?" asked Brienne nervously. "It's not too much?"

"Pfft," spluttered Shae. "Of course it's not too much. Actually, it's so hot that I think you might find that Jaime's brain short circuits and you have him worshipping at your feet for the whole evening."

Brienne quite liked the sound of that.

Squeezing Brienne's shoulders affectionately, Sansa peaked around her side, looking up at her mischievously. "Although I think we do need to get you some killer heels to wear with this. Then, I reckon Jaime will do whatever you want him to for the next ten years."

* * *

Once they had finished their shopping, Shae drove Brienne and Sansa back to Casterly, stopping at _The Inn at the Crossroads. _There had been some international rugby game on, so, when they arrived, Brienne looked around for all the guys who had come to watch the game. It only took her ten seconds to spot Jaime waiting at the bar with Tyrion and Robb Stark and, when their eyes met, he broke into a happy smile and waved at her.

"Wench!" he grinned, "do you want a drink?"

When she and Shae went to join them, Sansa went in search of the Hound, while Brienne slipped an arm around Jaime's waist. "I'd love a cranberry juice, actually."

"A cranberry juice for my wench, Masha," instructed Jaime with a smile, while Brienne gave him a squeeze.

While they waited for their drinks, Brienne turned to Robb Stark. "Where is Margaery?"

"At home," replied Robb. "She wanted a night in. I think she's well and truly fed up of being pregnant, and she's just wolfing down vindaloos in the hope it will make her pop."

Laughing, Brienne shook her head. "Oh, poor Margaery."

Just then, Tyrion entered the conversation. "How was your shopping trip?" he asked, turning to Shae and Brienne in turn.

"Very productive," grinned Shae, nudging Brienne knowingly. In response, Brienne tried to keep her blush at bay.

Giving her an intrigued expression, Jaime then dropped his eyes to the bags that sat and her feet and, the moment he noticed, a matching blush began to creep across his cheeks. "_Ellaria's_? What did you buy from _Ellaria's?"_

Biting her lip, Brienne tried to be teasing. "That's for me to know and for you to find out."

"Oh wench, you can't leave me hanging like that," he grinned, his eyes very wide. "I'll be torturing myself wondering what sexy underwear you've got in there all evening."

Suddenly, there was a loud scoff. "Why the fuck you'd torment yourself over images of that sow in silk I'll never know," slurred Ron Connington from the other side of the bar, before taking another drag of beer. "One sight of Brienne the Beauty without her clothes on is enough to turn any man's stomach."

Suddenly feeling very tense, Brienne missed the moment when Jaime let go of her. What happened next occurred so quickly that nobody at the bar had any time to react. Taking three urgent steps forward, Jaime caught Ron by the collar and lifted him off his chair, causing him to drop his glass, which went smashing to the ground. The sound caused everyone in _The Inn at the Crossroads _to turn around and look at them, giving Jaime an audience.

However, Jaime seemed to notice nothing, because he was possessed by an almost incandescent rage focussed entirely on Ron. "Talk about my wife like that again, and I swear you'll hear about it, okay Connington?"

"I... I... I..."

"Brienne's told all about what you did to her in the past," growled Jaime, "so every time I see you, I am already _this close _to kicking your head in. So, listen up. Even look in her direction again, and I'll punch you within an inch of your life. This is your last warning; do you understand me?"

Connington's eyes went very wide. "Yes... yes... I understand."

"Good," spat Jaime, letting go of his collar, "now get out of my sight before I change my mind."

Brienne's mouth dropped open when Connington jumped up from his seat and went racing out of the bar, not taking one look at Jaime or Brienne or anyone else. Clearly happy with himself for this development, Jaime came sauntering back to the group, and casually went back to waiting for their drinks to arrive.

"Fucking hell, Lannister," croaked Robb Stark. "That was a bit over the top."

Jaime looked at him darkly. "You don't know what Connington did to Brienne and, anyway, even if he hadn't... _nobody _speaks about my wife like that."

Tyrion gazed up at his brother as if he had gone mad. "I'll make sure I keep any light criticism of Brienne to myself in the future."

"Please do," grimaced Jaime.

Brienne, however, had no objections. She just felt very, very... _warm_.

"Jaime."

"Yes, wench?" he replied, slipping an arm around her waist.

"That was literally the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life."

A proud grin suddenly spread across Jaime's face. "Really?"

"Really," she smiled, totally lost in his green eyes. "So, if you want, we could go home and I'll show you what I bought from _Ellaria's?"_

At that exact moment, Masha came over with the drinks. Jaime put up a hand to stop her. "Sorry for the inconvenience, but Brienne and I won't need our drinks."

"Why not?" asked Masha confusedly.

"Because we're going home to have a little husband and wife time," Jaime managed to say, before Brienne almost dragged him away from the bar.

* * *

When they got home, they were so hot for each other that it was a wild mess of discarded clothes, passionate kisses, and Brienne's commands. "Get in our bedroom now," she ordered. "I want you to get yourself ready for me."

"How, my lady?" Jaime asked jokingly, burying his face in her neck and kissing her madly. Even though she had not explicitly told him that tonight would be the night she tied him up, this is how they had always played it before, so Jaime quickly fell into his designated role.

"Lay on the bed in nothing but your boxers. You have one minute."

Planting one more lascivious kiss on her lips, Jaime then dashed across the living room, down the hallway, and into their bedroom, where Brienne could hear him desperately trying to get the remainder of his clothes off. She couldn't help but laugh to herself at his excitement, even as her anticipation was building slowly, ever so slowly, as she followed him to their room. By the time she got there, Jaime had done just as she commanded, and was laying on their bed in his boxers like some sort of lost Sleeping Beauty who had stumbled out of a story. He was lounging back, his arms above his head, looking so unbelievably lovely with his flushed cheeks, that Brienne almost faltered.

"Wench."

"Yes, Jaime."

"Come over here and fuck me, please," he smiled. "Or I'll come over there and fuck you."

It was a challenge, and she couldn't resist it. Running towards the bed, Brienne leapt on top of him, straddling his hips and then squeezing her thighs together so she could hold him in a vice-like grip. Jaime groaned. "Oh god, you could ride me for _days _with thighs that strong."

Smiling to herself at how easily she could bring her husband to the edge, Brienne leant over to the bedside cabinet and rummaged around for the hand ties. They hadn't used them for a while, so they had fallen to the bottom, but once she found them, she wasted no time in tying Jaime's arms to the bedframe, while he looked up at her adoringly.

"Tight enough?" she asked.

He wriggled around slightly, just to check. "Tight enough."

Once he was secure, she then found the long piece of silk they used for a blindfold. When she pulled it out of the drawer, Jaime tried to object. "But wench, I know you've bought some really sexy underwear from _Ellaria's. _You are being mean to me if you put it on and then don't let me see it."

As she tied the knot around the back of his head, she smirked, "it builds the anticipation though, doesn't it?"

With that, she leapt off him, which caused yet more complaints from Jaime. "Cruel wench, come back! You can't leave me like this!"

"Oh, I can," she smirked. "You're mine to do anything I want with this evening, Jaime, so if you just lay there and be a good boy, you'll get your reward."

He visibly shivered at that. "Okay, wench. Okay. Just hurry up. I want you so badly."

Not wanting to waste time herself, Brienne picked up the bag from _Ellaria's, _and dashed to the bathroom, where she quickly changed into the lingerie she had bought. Steeling herself, she turned to look at her reflection in the mirror. "You look awesome," she told herself, before remembering Shae and Sansa's words. "Jaime is going to love this; in fact, his little brain is going to short circuit and he won't know what to do with himself. Just go and have fun."

Pumped up, Brienne then made her way back to the bedroom, the heels that Sansa had insisted she bought tapping on the hard wood floor as she returned to her husband, still bound to the bed. When she pushed the door open, Jaime lifted his head to the sound and then waited with bated breath as she made her way towards him. "Hello, my love," she said warmly, climbing on the bed once more and then instantly straddling him. Brienne was satisfied to find that the anticipation had already made him half hard.

"Hello wench," he said breathlessly. "You are wearing heels."

"Yes," she smiled, "and other things."

His voice took on a tone of desperation. "What? Describe them to me."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she teased.

"Yes," Jaime begged, "god yes, I would. Please tell me."

"Can't you feel them?" she asked, moving her legs slightly so he could feel the sheer material of the stockings against his thighs. Then, she laid down on top of him and began to kiss his neck, the new position making the frilly corsetry and the silky softness of her bottoms rub against his bare chest.

"Are you wearing a corset for me?" he rasped, his voice barely audible.

"Who said I was wearing it for you?" she teased, planting little kisses along his jaw, "I have you tied up, Jaime, I think it's you who is going to be used entirely for my pleasure tonight..."

He let out a little moan at that, before tilting his head towards the sound of her voice. "What are you going to do to me?"

Not quite knowing where this confidence was coming from, Brienne said, "I'm going to spend all night teasing and tormenting you, my love, until you feel so good, you'll be begging me to take you. I'm not going to do it, however. You have to please me first."

"I will, I _will_," he promised, his voice breaking.

"Then kiss me," she said, before lifting her face from his neck to hover above him. Stretching up, Jaime contorted himself into an awkward angle to kiss her, but, not wanting to see him uncomfortable, Brienne pushed him back into the pillow, and began to stroke his cheeks and run her fingers through his hair as she deepened the kiss.

_This is going to be a fun night, _thought Brienne.

And then, quite suddenly, it wasn't.

"Oh for fuck's sake, why don't you people answer when I knock at your front... _oh._"

Snapping her head around, Brienne suddenly noticed that Margaery was in the process of climbing through hers and Jaime's half opened bedroom window and had just noticed what she was interrupting.

"Margaery!" squawked Brienne.

"What the fuck's going on?" asked Jaime, still blindfolded, but no one answered his question, as the second Margaery got through the window she collapsed on the floor. Brienne leapt off Jaime and was over by her side in an instant.

"I'm so sorry," moaned Margaery, clutching her belly, "I wouldn't have climbed through your window, but I think my waters have broken and, in my panic, I just broke my phone trying to ring Robb. It's clear I'm interrupting something but... OOOOOOWWWWWW!!!"

Putting her arms around her friend, Brienne tried to lift her up in the hope of steering her to somewhere more comfortable, but Margaery wasn't moving. "Marg, we need to get you up."

"I'm going to fucking KILL Robb Stark," she bellowed, screaming as her body was ripped by a contraction. "It's all his fault that this... _hurts."_

"Okay, okay," said Brienne gently, trying to think of a plan as she rubbed Margaery's back. "I'll go and get my phone."

"No!" begged Margaery, "please, stay with me! At least until it stops fucking hurting."

"I will, I promise," replied Brienne ardently, gently massaging Margaery's shoulders as her friend screamed.

"Wench," Jaime growled from the other side of the room. "I don't want to interrupt you playing midwife, but I'm currently _tied to our bed. _Can you please come and free me?"

In answer to that, Margaery screamed, "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Not right now, Jaime, I'm kinda busy at the moment," Brienne interjected during a gap in the scream. "Now, Marg, babe, just breathe. You can do this."

"It really _hurts, _Brienne," she sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I knew it would be bad, but this is hell. I need Robb. I want Robb."

Brienne began to stroke her friend's hair. "Don't worry, I'll get him for you, as soon as your contraction is over." It took another minute for the pain to pass and, as soon as it had finished, Brienne helped Margaery into the armchair by the window, and then went in search of her phone.

"_Wench_," said Jaime warningly, "I'm _still _tied up. Can you please come and untie me?"

"One minute Jaime, I'll do it the second I've got in contact with Robb," promised Brienne, finding her phone in her handbag. As she started dialling his number, Jaime tried Margaery.

"Marg," he called, raising his voice. "Can _you _untie me? Pretty please?"

She gave him a tired smile. "I would, but I think I'm now stuck in this chair. And... anyway... the sight of you like that is the only thing keeping my mind off my pain at the moment."

"Margaery, stop perving over my husband," said Brienne, as she listened to the opening words of Robb's answerphone.

"I'm not perving, I'm just... OOOOOOWWWWWWWW!!!"

Running back to her friend with her phone in her hand, Brienne squeezed Margaery's hand. "There's not a big gap between them, is there? Your contractions, I mean," asked Brienne nervously.

Margaery shook her head. "I don't know how long it took me to get here after I dropped my phone. I was in so much pain."

"Okay, sweetheart," said Brienne, typing in Tyrion's number, hoping she would get a response.

"I think I can feel the baby coming..." moaned Margaery.

_That can't be right, _Brienne thought. _She hasn't even been in labour that long._

Just then, Tyrion answered the phone. "Yo, what's up? I thought you and my brother would be off shagging right about now."

Ignoring that comment, Brienne let her relief overwhelm her. "Tyrion, thank god," she sighed. "It's Margaery. She's in labour in mine and Jaime's bedroom."

"What?" asked Tyrion confusedly.

"Is Robb still at the pub with you?"

"Yeah..." he said slowly, "shall I bring him to you?"

"Yes please," instructed Brienne. "When you arrive, don't go to the front door. Apparently, our front doorbell has decided to go on holiday. Just come around the side gate and climb through our bedroom window. We won't hear you otherwise."

"Okay," said Tyrion nervously, "we'll be ten minutes."

"Alright, see you then," she replied, before hanging up the phone.

"Has Tyrion found Robb?" asked Margaery desperately, squeezing her words out through the pain of her latest contraction.

"Yes, Tyrion is on his way with him now," said Brienne encouragingly, knowing that wasn't one hundred percent the truth, holding out her hand for Margaery to squeeze.

"Wench," growled Jaime against, his tone becoming slightly panicked, "if you think I am going to continue being tied here while Robb Stark and Tyrion climb through our bedroom window, you've got another thing coming."

"I'll be with you in a moment," winced Brienne, as a screaming Margaery went on a quest to squash her fingers into a mushy pulp. "I'm just helping... ow... ow... ow..."

It took another few minutes for the contraction to end and Margaery to let go of Brienne's now very painful fingers. However, she took her opportunity, and went back to the bed to help Jaime. When she pulled off his blindfold, Jaime took a quick scan of the room and saw Margaery sat on the armchair. She gave him a sarcastic wave.

"Shut up, Tyrell," he snapped.

"What?" Margaery smiled teasingly, "I didn't say anything."

"But you _implied _it."

Margaery gave him a knowing grin. "I assure you, nobody will be in the least surprised to discover that this what you two get up to in your spare time."

"Shut up," he said again, "because this time, you _did _say something."

Brienne was very glad Jaime was being distracted by Margaery, because she had suddenly discovered they had a big problem; with her painful fingers, she couldn't get the knots loose. "Err... Jaime..."

"Yes?"

"I can't undo the knots."

He suddenly looked up at her, his green eyes flashing. "What do you mean you _can't undo the knots_."

"I mean I can't undo the knots!" Brienne repeated despairingly, pulling at the rope. "They're just too tight."

"But you've done them half a hundred times!" Jaime squawked. "You've never had a problem before!"

"But I'm having a problem now!" replied Brienne, valiantly trying to pull at them, even though she was sure it was just making the situation worse.

It was just at that moment, however, that they ran out of time. Yanking the window open much further than necessary, Robb Stark came vaulting through the gap, followed by Tyrion, Samwell Tarly, and then the entirety of the Casterly Constabulary.

"Oh god _nooooo,_" groaned Jaime, "I'm never going to fucking live this down."

Feeling immensely sorry for him, Brienne tried to join him in his misery. "Will it help if I stay straddling you? We could go down together?"

"Thanks for the offer," he smiled sadly, "but I don't think me getting an erection because you are sitting on top of me wearing that - which is very sexy by the way and you should definitely wear it again - is going to help the problem."

"True," replied Brienne, getting off Jaime to survey the scene. Robb Stark had immediately adopted a position next to Margaery, and had taken over Brienne's duty and having his hand officially crushed by his girlfriend. "Margaery, I know it hurts but please can you let go... ow... ow... ow!" Samwell Tarly was kneeling in front of her, looking up her night dress, inspecting the war zone. Everyone else were just being nosy buggers and made a beeline for Jaime, having a good laugh.

"Tonight not going quite how you expect, is it Jaime?" asked Tyrion laughing.

"No," Jaime growled in response, as the Hound started chortling too.

"Oh, this is too good. I might need to find my phone and take a picture."

"If you do, I'll kick your head in," hissed Jaime, not quite seeing the funny side.

"Oh, calm down, Jaime," smiled Tyrion. "You've got to see this is all highly amusing."

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" interrupted Margaery suddenly, roaring louder than a Boeing 747.

"This is a precipitate labour," announced Sam to the crowded room, as if anyone really knew what that meant. "This baby is coming now!"

"Now?" cried Margaery. "But I haven't been in labour long. Probably not even two hours!"

"That's what a precipitate labour _is, _Margaery," said Sam, trying to keep his voice level. "It basically means a quick labour. I'm going to need towels and hot water."

Still in her _Ellaria's _lingerie, Brienne dashed off to comply with Samwell's request, and by the time she got back, Jaime was offering Pod their firstborn child if he would just untie him.

"Don't scar poor Pod," teased Robb Arryn. "We're already traumatised by the sight of the Chief in her negligee."

At that, Jaime's face when very red. "If you are trying to suggest anything other than Brienne being the embodiment of all things hot and sexy, I will literally punch you when I'm out of these ties."

"Ooooh, I'm so scared," teased Robb Arryn.

Knowing he was fighting a losing battle there, Jaime turned back to Pod. "Pod, please help me. Brienne and I gave you £100,000. Can you please just do me a favour, mate? I'll be forever in your debt."

Pod sighed. "Alright, where's your big knives?"

"Knives?" screamed Margaery suddenly. "I don't need knives! I can push this baby out all by my.... AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Leaving Jaime to be rescued by Pod, Brienne ran over to Margaery's side and grabbed her hand, while Robb took the other and gave her encouraging words. "Margaery," he said gently, "you can do this."

"I can't Robb," replied Margaery, a tear rolling down her cheek. "It hurts so much."

Robb smiled at her. "You can, I promise you. You can do anything you set your mind to."

"This is too much," she moaned, "it's coming, and I don't know if I can..."

"Robb's right," interjected Brienne. "You are bloody tough, Margaery. If anyone is capable of this, it's you. Don't you remember the time we survived a lion attack? Or you rescued my ninja cat from out a tree? Or even that time you whacked Senelle in the face with a big Wet Floor sign? Or even more recently when you arrested the homewrecking bitch?"

"Yeah," snivelled Margaery.

"Well, you were strong all those times, so you can be strong now," said Brienne firmly. "I believe in you."

"And so do I," added Robb, smiling at his girlfriend.

In return, Margaery gave him a weary smile back.

"Right," said Samwell, looking up from between Margaery's legs. "Now's the time, Margaery. When the next contraction takes you, you've got to push, okay?"

"Okay," replied Margaery, looking bloody terrified. Robb and Brienne squeezed her hands in unison, trying to help her be as calm as possible. In a second, her eyes went very wide. "It's coming... it's coming..."

"Alright," said Sam gently. "In three... two... one... PUSH!"

* * *

An hour later, Margaery was sitting on the floor of Jaime and Brienne's bedroom, with Robb's arms around her, holding their little baby girl in their arms. While Margaery was cooing over her, Robb was bawling his eyes out, and everyone else was congratulating them and phoning everyone who needed to know. Pod had finally succeeded in getting Jaime untied from the bed, so he had gone to find his and Brienne's dressing gowns and they had both put them on. The gentle ribbing had finally stopped, but they both knew they wouldn't be living down this one for the rest of their lives. To comfort him, Brienne put her arms around Jaime's waist and he leaned back against her.

"What are you going to call her?" asked Jon curiously, as everyone gazed down at the honey-haired little girl.

Smiling at her baby, Margaery then turned her eyes up to look at them all. "As we've agreed that she's going to have the surname Stark, Robb and I have decided that I can have first dibs on names. So, for that reason, we've settled on Alerie; it is an old Tyrell family name."

"Awww, that's beautiful Marg," smiled Brienne, overwhelmed with joy for her friend.

Margaery went to say something else, but Robb Arryn cut across her. "What about a middle name?"

At that question, Margaery and Robb shared a look, before Robb spoke. "Well... we both decided that we wanted to honour a woman who will undoubtedly be super involved in Alerie's life, and will always provide a great role model, teacher, and general inspiration to our daughter." Robb then looked up at Brienne, "so, if you don't mind, Chief, we thought for her middle name, we would name her after you."

Brienne was so surprised her mouth dropped open in shock. She tried to think of something to say, but Jon beat her to it. "What? You're going to call her Alerie Wench Stark?"

Robb let out a huff of laughter. "No, we were thinking of Alerie _Brienne _Stark actually, Jon... that's as long as you don't mind, Chief."

Brienne was so stunned that she didn't know what to say. "I... I... I..."

"She'd be honoured," smiled Jaime, turning around to peck Brienne on the cheek, "wouldn't you, wench?"

Meeting Jaime's gaze for a little support, Brienne then looked at Margaery, who had tears in her eyes.

"Of course," Brienne beamed, almost entirely overwhelmed. "I'd be absolutely honoured."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! I hope you liked that! I would love to hear from you if you did in the form or comment and kudos! Both make me so overwhelmed and happy!
> 
> Next chapter... it is Jaime and Brienne's second wedding anniversary, and they have some important decisions to make...


	30. Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is Jaime and Brienne's second wedding anniversary, and they have lots of things to discuss...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait once again guys! I just struggle with finishing fics something terrible. I hope you like this chapter and I would love to hear your opinion in the form of comments or kudos!

"Wench!" said Jaime loudly as he barged into the bathroom, "we've only got fifteen minutes until Shae and Tyrion arrive. What the hell are you doing?"

"Staring at myself in the mirror," Brienne replied honestly, checking herself out in the pane of polished glass.

Noting her confidence, Jaime gave her a happy smile. "Why, may I ask?"

"Just thinking," she said, picking up her mascara and dusting it against her eyelashes just as Jaime wrapped his arms about her waist.

"What about?" he asked, resting his head on her shoulder.

_Communication, _she thought. _Communication is all important._

"I just realised we are coming up to six months since we saw Olenna about our fertility plan and... we've still had no luck," she sighed, pulling the words out awkwardly from inside her heart. "The next step is IVF."

Noticing her discomfort, Jaime squeezed her affectionately, before speaking to her softly. "IVF it is then, whatever that entails, and I'll be with you every step on the way."

After giving him a quick peck on the cheek, Brienne smiled at him, "I know it's just, I've consulted Doctor Google..."

"Not again," said Jaime teasingly. "And what did he have to say?"

"Nothing ground-breaking," admitted Brienne. "It just all seems much more... physically strenuous than what we've been doing up until now."

Jaime looked into the mirror; not to break this moment of intimacy that was spinning between them, but so he could gaze into her eyes. "If you don't want to do it, that's fine with me. I've known since we started this having a baby thing; if it doesn't work, I am okay with that. You are family enough for me."

Overwhelmed, Brienne locked her hands over his. "You are too sweet sometimes."

"I'm not being sweet, I'm being honest," he said ardently. "I love you. You are enough. What we have is enough. And I don't want you to beat yourself up over having a physically invasive procedure just because you feel like you owe me a child or some shit. If you want to do this, then let's do this. If you don't, let's not."

"Jaime, don't make me cry, I've already put my eye make-up on," Brienne said, stunned at his sensitivity, even though after all this time together it was not a surprise at all.

"Hey, don't cry, wench," he murmured gently, moving so he could stand next to her and brush the tears away. "I'm not trying to make you sad."

"You're not making me sad. You're making me happy."

Relieved by that admission, Jaime's grin matched her own. "Good, because I back you one hundred percent in whatever decision you make. This whole process is going to take a huge toll on your body and none whatsoever on mine; it's up to you, honestly."

At their sessions with Val, Brienne had discovered the ways in which Jaime often sacrificed himself to please her, and the thought made her so intensely sad that she tried to fight his automatic desire to do that where she could. "But if it was your body, would you go through this process? Would you think it was worth it to have kids with me? To make our family of two a family of three?"

Jaime went strangely misty-eyed at that question. "Of course I would think it is worth it. To hold our child in my arms... I would do anything."

Brienne went to say that she agreed wholeheartedly and she wanted to meet Olenna again and go through the IVF process not because she needed to make him happy, or desired a baby beyond anything, but because this was a journey the two of them could share, bonding them together even tighter than they were. However, she did not get the opportunity as Jaime's phone buzzed.

"Ah, Tyrion and Shae are five minutes away, wench," he interjected, checking the message. "We should stop pontificating and actually get ready."

"Shall we continue having this conversation later?" she asked.

"Definitely," replied Jaime, before giving her a quick kiss that did nothing more than make sure they were a little late.

* * *

All things considered, Brienne thought it was very nice for Tyrion and Shae to volunteer to take her and Jaime to the local ruins for a day out. Archaeologists at the nearby village of Harrenhal had recently uncovered a lost medieval keep that had been concealed during a mudslide and it had turned into an interesting tourist destination.

"Come on," Tyrion smiled, "it's your second anniversary; it's the least we could do."

"We celebrated our second anniversary on Thursday actually," smiled Jaime, taking Brienne's hand, "but this is cool too. Thanks for doing this."

On Thursday, Brienne and Jaime had just wanted to do something small, so had just gone out for a nice intimate dinner in Lannisport before coming home to have the type of sex that made her head spin. Without her even asking, Jaime had knelt down between her legs and ate her out until she came almost crying his name. To return the favour, Brienne reciprocated so thoroughly that after he had finished, they both just laid on the bed for a while in a dazed stupor, grinning stupidly at each other, before going for a second round.

There was no time for such shenanigans out and about at Harrenhal, however. Shae had completed her thesis in medieval architecture, so was all too happy to explain the way that medieval castles used dramatic staircases and height to display wealth and power. "It's so all the little peasants feel smaller and smaller as they ascend to the donjon," she explained, pointing out what she meant.

"Donjon?" asked Jaime curiously. "What's a donjon?"

"It's the proper name for the keep," replied Shae. "_Keep _is actually a..."

Brienne wanted to listen, because honestly, she found Shae's digressions into medieval history fascinating. However, in spite of the cold air and the brisk walking pace, she was starting to feel a little queasy and light-headed. Not wanting to worry anyone, she just kept holding Jaime's hand in order to remain steady on her feet, and let him lead her around the site, just nodding along to Jaime and Tyrion's questions.

In the early afternoon, they stopped at a little cafe called _The Bear Pit, _which reputedly sat in the middle of the ruins of the medieval bear pit proper. Intrigued, Jaime turned to Shae to ask more questions. "Did people fight bears in the olden days?"

That made Shae spit her tea out. "Firstly, what do you mean by _olden days? _That's not an academically recognised chronological period."

"You know," shrugged Jaime, locking his fingers with Brienne's, "back in the day."

Shae gave him a wry smile, "secondly, this is not the Roman Colosseum. Medieval bear baiting normally just constituted a fight between the poor bear and some dogs, not between a ferocious, majestic animal and a moron with a sword."

Although Shae was the expert, Jaime seemed to disagree with her answer. "I think people fought bears; I want to bet at least once, some cruel bastards chucked some poor defenceless maiden in with a bear, and the stupid idiot that was in love with her jumped in right after to save her."

"Jaime," said Tyrion witheringly, "we are not on a film set. This is a genuine archaeological site. I highly doubt anything like that ever occurred."

"You never know," grinned Jaime, "how do we know anything about the past anyway? It all just old dudes writing down lies." Although Shae looked highly traumatised by that opinion, Jaime did not seem to notice and turned to Brienne. "What do you think, wench?"

"Sorry, what?" replied Brienne, suddenly zoning back in on the conversation after having been supremely focussed on how weird she was feeling.

As he knew her so well, Jaime did not bother continuing to pursue his silly line of questioning as he instantly spotted something was wrong, and instead looked at her concernedly. "Wench, are you alright? You look a little pale."

Brienne gave him a tired smile. "I'm fine, my love, just feeling a little light-headed, that's all."

At her expression, Jaime furrowed his brow. "What can I get you? A drink? Some food? Do you want to go home?"

Not wanting to ruin all the effort Tyrion and Shae had put into their day, Brienne shook her head. "No, I'll be fine, but maybe I can do with something to eat."

At her request, Jaime was on it instantly, and dashed over to _The Bear Pit's _bar in order to buy a massive plate of chips with all the condiments. By the time he brought it back, Jaime had surreptitiously snaffled some himself, but putting it in front of her, he gave her an order. "Eat. After lunch, Shae wants to take us to the underground baths they've discovered. Apparently, they're quite beautiful." To please him, Brienne ate a few chips, but in truth, once the smell of the food reached her nostrils, it made her feel even worse, so mostly let the others share them.

In the afternoon, Shae did take them down to the baths as Jaime had said, for which one needed a guided tour. Their guide was a pale-faced man called Roose Bolton, who spoke in an almost eerie voice as he pointed out the period architecture and the ahead-of-its-time plumbing. Shae and Tyrion were living for the facts, but Brienne felt she could not quite focus, so hovered at the back just nodding along. Perhaps sensing something was wrong, Jaime never let go of her hand the whole way around the labyrinth-like baths.

"I bet people had sex down here all the time," he smirked, which earned him a disapproving look from Brienne.

"Jaime, this is a serious archaeological site. You can't stay stuff like that."

"Why not?" he smirked. "One day, our bedroom might be an important archaeological site, and only we know what sexual shenanigans have gone on in there."

Brienne had to bite her lip to keep a laugh escaping during Roose Bolton's very boring drone about sewage systems. "Alright, but I still don't think people would be having sex in a bath back in the day."

"We've had sex in a bath, multiple times," he muttered, as if that proved a point.

Brienne rolled her eyes, "yes, but that was in the privacy of our own house. These baths are very public."

"Wouldn't stop some people," shrugged Jaime.

"It would stop _most _people," replied Brienne. "Most people would just wash themselves in the bath and get on with their lives."

Leaning close, Jaime dropped his voice so he could whisper. "I don't know, if I was some knight just chilling in the bath and you, my medieval wench, came in all naked and started rubbing yourself down with soap or something, I would pop an awkward boner and definitely want to shag you."

Laughing into her sleeve, Brienne murmured, "well that's just you."

"And you would think I looked so sexy with my knightly hair all lathered up, like half a god," he grinned, trying to make her giggle even more.

"No I wouldn't," she tittered, "because you would have none of your super expensive _Ombre Soleil _shampoo that makes your hair smell all citrusy."

"You're right there, wench," he said, his voice suddenly deep and resonant, "I would just smell like pure, unadulterated Jaime Lannister, and you'd go nuts for it."

Although she knew there was nothing better after having sex with Jaime than to press her face into his chest and inhale deeply, Brienne didn't want to let him win, so she countered that assertion. "And dung, because in the period dramas, all medieval people are covered in dung."

Due to Jaime's joking, Brienne was able to hold it together for the rest of the tour around the bath house, and even when Tyrion told them they had booked for them to go for dinner at _The Inn at the Crossroads _when they got back to Casterly. "We didn't want anything too extravagant," admitted Tyrion, "but we thought it might be nice for the four of us to have some food to round out the day."

As Jaime took every and any excuse to go to _The Inn, _he looked utterly jubilant at that idea so, even though she did not feel her best, Brienne agreed to go with them. Once they were sat in one of the booths in the corner, Shae ordered a massive fish, chips and mushy peas, Tyrion a plate of nachos, and Jaime a huge quarter pounder with fries. Not feeling up to it, Brienne just went for a Caesar salad.

"Are you alright, wench?" asked Jaime again, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You've been picking at your food all day."

Brienne squeezed his hand reassuringly. "It's nothing major. I'm still just feeling a little weird, that's all."

"Well, once I've wolfed down this, we can go home and get you tucked up in bed," he smiled. "You'll hopefully feel better after a good night's sleep."

Suddenly, both Tyrion and Shae looked horrified. "No!" squawked Tyrion, "you can't do that!"

"Why not?" asked Brienne curiously.

"Because... because... we've agreed to meet Margaery at the Arlington Rooms for a quick drink," said Shae hurriedly. "After we've all seen her, you can go home then."

Jaime and Brienne looked at each other confusedly. "Why the Arlington Rooms?" questioned Jaime. "Isn't that for big corporate events and stuff? Why can't Margaery come here if she wants to meet us for a drink?"

Tyrion waved his hand breezily. "Oh, you know her; she's got funny ideas."

"But if Brienne's feeling ill..." began Jaime.

"Margaery's got some interesting news about Alerie," Shae blurted suddenly. Even though Tyrion looked at her as if she had gone mad, she carried on speaking. "I don't know what it is, but she really wants to tell you to your face. One drink, that's all she's asking."

In spite of her slight reservations about one drink never actually meaning _one drink, _Brienne let Tyrion and Shae cajole her into going to meet Margaery and, once they had her acquiescence, Jaime followed without much protest.

"I still think the Arlington Rooms is a strange choice," muttered Brienne to her husband as they approached the front door. "When was the last time we came here?"

"We were meant to have our wedding reception here," mused Jaime, "but my sister shot me in the shoulder so... that didn't happen."

It was only when they went into the building that Brienne realised all the lights were turned off. "Are you sure this is the right place?" she asked Shae and Tyrion. "Are you one hundred percent that Margaery wanted to meet us here?"

"Yes, yes," said Tyrion a little dismissively, "now why don't you and Jaime go through that door over there and look for her, hmm?"

Given Tyrion's oddly abrasive tone, Brienne decided to obey him so, taking Jaime's hand, the two of them pushed open the door into the main reception room together. Almost immediately, the reason for Tyrion and Shae's strangeness was revealed as, the second they stepped into the room, the lights were switched on and Brienne saw hundreds of people staring back at her.

"SURPRISE! HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!"

Shooting a look at Jaime, who seemed as equally as shocked as her, Brienne only started to piece together what had happened when Margaery stepped out of the crowd and gave her a little wave. Other than Margaery, Tyrion, and Shae, everyone they knew in Casterly was present; their colleagues, all of the Stark family, the local hoodlums, Jaime's old school friends, Brienne's pals from Syrio Forel's aerobics class, Jorah Mormont, Masha Heddle, Pia and people they just knew from around. Brienne even spotted her dad at the back. They were all framed by a giant banner saying _Happy Anniversary Jaime & Brienne, _covered in little colourful blobs which indicated that baby Alerie must have had a hand in painting it. Overwhelmed by the gesture, Brienne turned to Margaery, tears threatening. "You didn't have to do this."

"But we _wanted _to," her best friend smiled. "You two have had such a shitty year, what with the fertility stuff, prison, and _her, _that we all wanted to help you start your third year together with a bang. You've been through a lot; you deserve it."

Brienne just had time to shoot Jaime a happy little smile before they were suddenly separated from each other by a tidal wave of people who were wishing them well, forcing drinks on them, and asking how on earth they both managed to cope with the past year. After saying a brief hello to her dad, Brienne then did the rounds of all her colleagues and their other halves, before being whisked away to talk to Syrio Forel about the type of dances Brienne liked doing at Water Dances. Just as that conversation started, the DJ that had been hired started to play some music, causing some people to migrate onto the dance floor. Once the _Cha Cha Slide _came on, Sansa rocked up and grabbed Brienne's arm excitedly.

"Do you want to come dance with me? Jaime's coming too."

On any other day, Brienne would have shyly agreed, but in that moment she just shook her head and told her friend to go and have fun. In truth, she still did not feel one hundred percent and, knowing Margaery penchant for a big party, Brienne feared she would have to pretend to be alert and awake for most of the night, which would be difficult if she were exhausted from dancing.

For the first hour and a half, Brienne did manage to appear as if all was functioning well, mainly by only half-heartedly involving herself in conversations, refusing to dance, and occasionally going to look at the huge projector that their friends had put up, which was flicking through an ongoing stream of photos of Jaime and Brienne. She succeeded in keeping up appearances until nine o'clock, when Margaery somehow got hold of a microphone from somewhere and made an announcement.

"Thank you everyone for coming this evening," she called out, which elicited a little clap. "The Get Jaime and Brienne a Decent Anniversary Party Group chat are all elated you could be here with us. Thank you to Wyman Manderly Catering for supplying the food, and to Tyrion and Shae for so valiantly keeping the happy couple out of Casterly all day while we prepared this."

As there was a louder applause, Brienne felt a familiar hand on her elbow; it was Jaime. "Were you expecting any of this?" he asked.

"Didn't have a clue," admitted Brienne as she leaned into him. "I guess we're both pretty crappy police officers."

"I guess," replied Jaime, amused, before turning back to Margaery to hear her speech.

"Now, if this was any couple, I would be soliloquising on how deep their love runs and how cute they are together, but I am sure my colleagues would agree with me in saying it's not cute... it's annoying." There was a cheer from the whole Constabulary then, while Brienne gave them all a faux angry look. "They pined so spectacularly for each other for months and months before they got together that the whole office had developed a serious plan to lock them in a cupboard to get them to sort it out like adults. Then, once they actually got together, they insisted on getting it on so vigorously all around the station that you are actively advised to enter the building wearing a blindfold and earmuffs in case you witness something you wish you hadn't."

"It's Lannister that likes being blindfolded!" hooted Robb Arryn, which earned him a high five from Robb Stark and a little chuckle from everyone in the know.

"Shut up you two!" shouted Margaery, "I'm trying to make a speech!"

"Sorry..." came the sheepish response.

Margaery shook her head, getting control of her thoughts once more. "Now, what was I saying? Oh yes... Jaime, Brienne, at the same time as all that, it is remarkable how intensely devoted to each other you both are, and it truly is an inspiration. Jaime, you got a nice bullet hole in his shoulder while taking a bullet for your wench during your wedding, while Brienne, you recently acquired a rather fetching stab wound from protecting Jaime from his psycho stalker. If there is a greater expression of love, I don't know what it is. So, for that reason, could everyone please put your hands together for Jaime and Brienne!"

The applause was so loud that Brienne didn't hear what Jaime said when he leant over and whispered in her ear. However, she did not need to, as she could give him his answer without hearing the question.

"I love you too."

Once the applause died down once more, Margaery made a beckoning gesture to the guests of honour. "After having gone on and on about how much Jaime and Brienne love each other and what an inspiration they are, I thought we might take this opportunity to lower the tone and play a little game. How do you two fancy a round of _Mr and Mrs?"_

Feeling a bit sick at that suggestion, Brienne shook her head to object, but it was no use as Jaime had grabbed her hand and was pulling her up onto the stage beside Margaery, clearly loving the opportunity to trumpet how much he loved his wench to the world.

"Now, the game is very simple," explained Margaery, as Jon wheeled on two tables with two sets of matching glittery _Mr _and _Mrs _paddles. "I am going to ask you both a series of questions so we can all watch you get publicly humiliated together as you tell us about the inner workings of your relationship. If you think the answer is Brienne, raise the pink paddle, if you think it's Jaime, raise the blue one. The aim of the game is to get matching answers. Do you understand me?"

As Brienne took her seat behind one of the tables, Jaime turned to Margaery. "What if the answer is neither of us?"

At that question, Margaery grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "Oh, don't worry. These questions are specially tailored just for you two."

Feeling uneasy, Brienne looked up at Jaime who quickly took the chair beside her. "It will be alright wench," he said, squeezing her hand under the table, "it's just a bit of fun."

And with that, the game began. "So," grinned Margaery, "let's start with an easy question. Who is more organised?" As one, both Jaime and Brienne held up the _Mrs _sign. No one was in the least surprised. Margaery let out a little laugh. "Are you not even going to have a discussion on that one?"

"No," replied Jaime and Brienne in unison, before smiling at each other.

"Okay, this question was submitted by Tyrion Lannister, perhaps telling you that he already knows the answer to this one. Who spends more money on their hair?"

"Pfft," laughed Brienne as she raised the _Mr _sign. "Easy question."

"Brienne thinks thirty quid is an expensive haircut," smiled Jaime. "I think it's cheap."

"I think you sometimes spend too much money on your hair," said Brienne in a type of mock condescension.

Jaime raised an eyebrow at her, "but you always say I have lovely hair."

In spite of herself, Brienne blushed as Jaime looked at her victoriously. "I _do _think you have lovely hair."

"Then it's money well spent, isn't it?" he replied with a wink.

"Who would win in a fight?" interrupted Margaery.

"Verbal or physical?" asked Jaime.

Margaery thought about it for a moment. "Physical."

To everyone's amusement, Brienne picked the _Mrs _paddle while Jaime went for the _Mr _option, which then left them squabbling over every arm wrestle and thumb war they had had since the beginning of their relationship in search of evidence.

"In truth," said Jaime eventually, "I'd let you win, because I would never want to see you hurt."

"And I would let you win," agreed Brienne, "for the same reasons."

Margaery rolled her eyes. "Right, we're moving on before this gets ridiculously soppy and sentimental. Who is louder?"

Jaime went for _Mrs, _which Brienne found outrageous. "What are you talking about? You never shut up!"

After exchanging a brief knowing glance with Margaery, Jaime then looked back at his wife, "she's not talking about in everyday life, wench."

It took Brienne a few more moments to put together exactly what he meant, but when the penny dropped, she let out a little _oh _and changed her mind to the _Mrs _paddle. The crowd just laughed harder at that.

"I think we could probably all guess the answer to this one," said Margaery, looking down on her list, "but who is the little spoon?"

There was an over dramatic _ooooooh _from the audience at that, while Jaime and Brienne looked at each other, searching for answers. Fearing that he would find it a little embarrassing if they admitted the truth, Brienne looked to Jaime for direction. He clearly spent a few moments weighing it up, before grabbing hold of the_Mr _sign and waving it in the air proudly. Brienne copied in a moment.

At their united front, a drunken Robb Stark let out a derisive laugh. "Oh, Jaime, we all know you are Little Bitch Lannister."

Snapping her head around, Brienne glared at Robb ferociously while wrapping her arms around her husband. "Just because you are not adorable and lovely enough to be the little spoon, Robb, doesn't mean you have to take it out on people who are."

Robb went to say something back to that, but Margaery gave him a look that said _shut up now if you value your life, _before moving onto the next question. Strangely, Brienne found it the most intensely personal yet.

"Who fell in love first?"

Hesitating, Brienne struggled to map the exact milestones in her relationship with her husband in her head. In contrast, Jaime picked up the _Mr _sign instantly. On noticing her indecision, Jaime furrowed his brow. "Come on wench," he smiled, "that is an easy one. It's obviously me."

Brienne valiantly fought to find the words. "I know you are probably right, it is just from my perspective, I was in the middle of being in love with you before I knew it had started, so I am finding it quite difficult to put an exact date on in it."

"I can put a date on when I first realised that I loved you, if that would help," said Jaime quickly, blushing slightly.

Brienne was intrigued. "Go on then."

"When I took you back to your flat after Renly and Loras' wake."

Brienne's mouth dropped open. "What?" she asked, shocked. "But... I was a drunken mess that night."

At the memory, Jaime blushed. "An adorable drunken mess who let me take her shoes off, tuck her up under a blanket, and kiss her on the cheek, how could I not be smitten?"

Ignoring the fact that everyone was watching them, Brienne leant into kiss Jaime, and he reciprocated with enthusiasm. At the sight, Margaery objected instantly, "NO SNOGGING! You still haven't answered the question."

Her lips still on Jaime's, Brienne picked up the _Mr _sign just so Margaery would move on. When they broke the kiss, Margaery was rolling her eyes. "What?" smiled Brienne teasingly, "your question just reminded us of a really lovely night."

Still shaking her head, Margaery went for the next question. "So, after that indecent display, this next question is rather fitting. Who initiated the first kiss?"

Brienne held up the _Mr _sign. Jaime held up the _Mrs._

"How in god's name can you possibly be claiming I initiated our first kiss?" squawked Brienne when she saw the answer Jaime had picked.

"Err..." he said as if Brienne was an idiot, "because you did."

"No I did not."

"Yes you did."

"No I did not."

"Yes you did."

"No I did... alright then," said Brienne, changing tack. "Enlighten me, _please. _How did I initiate our first kiss?"

"Well," replied Jaime slowly, turning a little pink, "if we're discounting that almost kiss on our first date, after Stannis Baratheon's drinks reception you slammed me against a wall and stuck your tongue down my throat."

Before Brienne could open her mouth to protest, Margaery let out a splutter of laughter. "Sounds like Jaime's got you there, sorry Brienne."

Not remembering events that way at all, Brienne began to object. "That's missing a lot of damn context!"

"Like what?" asked Margaery, intrigued.

"Well, for one..." said Brienne slowly, "what he said to me immediately before that." The audience went quiet at that statement, clearly anticipating something quite spectacular.

Evidently feeling the same, Margaery inquired, "and what did he say?"

Not wanting to embarrass him, Brienne looked to her husband for direction but, to her surprise, she found that Jaime was waving his hand up in the air like he was a kid in school, proud at getting a question right. "I told her I wanted her to fuck me, anyway she wanted me, and I was tired of waiting."

_Oh god, he's been on the beer, _Brienne thought.

At Jaime's proud statement of what had happened the night of Stannis Baratheon's drinks reception, there was a rumble of laughter as Brienne looked horrified. "Jaime! This game is meant to be PG, you can't say stuff like that."

"Why do you think this game is PG?" Jaime asked, even as Tyrion rushed over to the DJ and had the music turned back up. "When has our relationship ever been PG?"

"Before we fell in love," said Brienne challengingly.

He just smiled at her. "I don't remember what that feels like."

At that heartfelt declaration, Brienne was lost in her husband's eyes, and let him curl and arm around her shoulder and bring her into a deep kiss. She wasn't quite sure how long they stayed that way until suddenly Jaime pulled back, his eyes wide.

"Oh my god wench."

"What?"

"It's our song!"

Pricking her ears up, Brienne looked at him confusedly. "This isn't _Let's Get It On."_

Jaime rolled his eyes. "No. It's our real song! Ed Sheeran's _Thinking Out Loud." _At the sound of the opening bars, Jaime got to his feet and cantered into the direction of the little dancefloor, buzzed on alcohol and excitement. "Come on, wench. Dance with me."

Brienne sighed; he was looking at her so eagerly that she knew she would never be able to resist. With him extending his hand towards her, Brienne quickly got to her feet, wanting nothing more than to be in his arms. However, the second she did so, she knew it was a mistake. Moving forward towards the first step coming off the stage, Brienne suddenly felt incredibly light-headed and woozy. The lights in the Arlington Rooms were flashing in front of her eyes, and the next thing she knew her legs had given way beneath her and she was falling, everything slipping out of control.

It had all gone black even before she hit the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed that! Let me hear what you think in a comment or in kudos!
> 
> Next chapter... Jaime panics over what has happened to Brienne...


	31. Positive Results

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime finds out what is wrong with Brienne...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god the last chapter! I hope you have enjoyed this incredibly silly story; I am so proud of myself for coming up with my own murder mystery and attempting to pace it correctly, so I would love to hear how you think I have done. As ever, I appreciate every comment and kudos, and every single one makes me evaluate my writing in a new way.
> 
> Now, I'll finish my Oscar speech in the endnotes so, for now, I hope you like the last chapter.

Jaime knew Brienne was going to fall a second before she did it, as her eyes went glassy and began to roll into the back of her head. Quickly dropping his invitation for her to dance with him, Jaime charged forward as her legs gave way, but was not there fast enough to stop her tumbling down the set of shallow stairs leading from the stage, nor prevent her cracking her head on the short bannister. He reached her just as she crumpled to the floor, looking strangely vulnerable with her limbs all over the place, even though she was so tall and strong.

"Brienne," Jaime cried, his panic constricting his throat as he fell to his knees. "Brienne! Brienne! Can you hear me?" At the sounding of her name, Brienne's eyelids fluttered, demonstrating she was at least half aware of what was going on, but to his terror she did not wake up fully. Panicking, Jaime pulled her head onto his lap, gently stroking her cheek in an effort to get her attention. "Brienne?"

As she let out a little groan, Sam and Talisa burst out from within the crowd, like a couple of paramedic superheroes who could be conjured out of the aether at any given emergency.

"She fell," said Jaime desperately, "and she hasn't responded to me. Brienne? _Brienne?_"

Talisa gave Jaime a reassuring smile. "It looks like she has fainted; if we just lift her legs up, it should help bring her back around."

As Sam and Talisa put Brienne into that position, Jaime began to run his fingers through his wife's hair, his stomach falling when he realised his fingers were covered in blood. "Sam, Talisa... she's bleeding."

Leaving Talisa to hold Brienne's feet up, Sam crouched down beside Jaime and had a look. "Ah, it seems she hit her head on the bannister."

Although through his years as a police officer had enabled Jaime to develop a calm demeanour and a focussed, unemotional way of dealing with difficult situations, the sight of an unconscious Brienne bleeding on the floor was too much. Continuing to soothingly stroke her face, he tried to keep his breathing steady. "She's hurt... there's so much blood."

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder; it was Selwyn. "Head wounds often look worse than they actually are."

"Even so, we should ring an ambulance," came Robb Stark's voice, as he got his phone out.

As everyone else was busy watching Robb shout down the phone to the people at 999, it was only Jaime who saw Brienne come around. Squeezing her eyes shut for a second, she then suddenly opened them, letting Jaime see the pair of familiar sapphires that he loved so well gazing up at him in confusion. "Jaime?" she asked, her voice weak. "What happened?"

"You fainted and hit you head," he replied, expelling air from his lungs at his sudden relief, "but you are awake now. You're back in the room. It's all going to be okay."

Being the woman she was, Brienne then tried to sit up, but Jaime held her to him, determined that he would not permit her to get up and instantly fall over again. "Woah... easy goes there, wench. We don't know what made you fall, and you hit your head pretty bad, so we've called an ambulance."

Biting her lip, an emotion that looked like guilt flitted across her features. "But it's our anniversary party..."

"It is," Jaime agreed, as he carried on stroking her pale cheeks, "so it's only right that you continue to rest your head on my lap, isn't it?"

"Okay," Brienne mumbled, smiling weakly at him.

After that, Brienne became distracted by the few tests that Sam and Talisa could conduct as they waited for the ambulance - they checked if her pupils were dilating properly, had a look at her head wound, and asked her questions about how she was feeling - but none of that made Jaime any less worried. In all the time he had known his wench, she had been a formidable pillar of physical strength, even when she was getting stabbed in the shoulder by a psycho; it was one of the little things he loved about her so much. Therefore, to see Brienne looking so fragile made Jaime very scared, and it was a type of fear he did not know he was capable of feeling. It made him feel small, weak, and powerless, because he knew he had absolutely no control over the situation.

Things improved slightly when the ambulance arrived, as Jaime was told he could ride all the way to the hospital with Brienne, never leaving her side. As she was laid down on the stretcher, Jaime knelt down beside her and held her hand as the paramedics set about bandaging the small wound on her head. Clearly, as the journey to the hospital went on, Brienne began to feel a little better, as the colour came back to her cheeks and she started smiling at him. "You are so sweet," she whispered, "I'm a big girl, you do not have to hold my hand you know."

"I know," he replied, her statement just making him squeeze her fingers tighter. "It's just you did this for me once, remember, when I had a bullet in my shoulder?"

Brienne evidently felt well enough to scoff at that, "well yes, but that was a bullet. My predicament is probably due to not eating enough at lunch and getting whacked on the head by a bannister."

Jaime laughed along with her joke, even as he worried there was something hidden, something lurking underneath Brienne like a riptide that was about to suck her into the icy blackness and take her away forever.

_No, _he told himself. _These are irrational thoughts. Don't let yourself be consumed by them._

Jaime found it harder to keep them at bay once he got to the hospital, as Brienne was shoved into a tiny ward with a lumpy bed entirely unbefitting of her. In spite of her situation, he could do nothing but sit on an uncomfortable chair beside her as she had her forehead stitched up, blood tests done and had to give a urine sample. Then, they just had to wait. During that period, Jaime tried to distract Brienne with mundane conversation but, the longer time stretched on, the more anxious she became.

"There's something wrong," she said, not quite meeting his eye. "I know there is. I can feel it. I haven't felt good all day."

Unable to help himself, he took her hand. "You don't know that yet, wench."

"But I can _feel _it," she replied, a cloud of worry and anxiety overcoming her her beautiful blue eyes. Normally, Jaime would find soothing words, but in that moment, he was scared too, and his platitudes ran dry.

"I know you're worried," he began, "but please don't get worked up. It... it... worries me unnecessarily, especially when the doctors haven't given us a reason to be panicked yet."

Sensing his fear, Brienne smiled at him apologetically. "I'm sorry it's just... I can't abide this waiting. I wish they would just tell me I was dying so we could all go home and at least panic about it in the comfort of our own home."

He knew that she was just trying to lighten the mood with a joke, but it only succeeded in making Jaime's heart sore. "You are not dying," he declared softly, "because if you were I just couldn't... I wouldn't..."

"Jaime," she whispered, knowing it was her turn to console him, "I'm sorry, I'm not dying, I was just..."

"Because if you were, I would happily wither and die with you," Jaime vowed, half-joking, half-serious.

Even though he had been trying to make her smile, Brienne fixed him with a stern look. "Don't you dare say stuff like that," she chided. "If I was dying, I would want nothing more than for you to live on and find some other woman who could love you, look after you, and tie you up just the way you like as well as I did... if not better."

"Nobody could do it better than you," he replied ardently, leaning in to kiss her. He mistakenly thought that the physical closeness would smooth over the bubble of worry that was overwhelming them during their long wait for the results, but when they broke apart, there was sadness in Brienne's eyes.

"What if it's something bad?"

Jaime went to respond, but his voice cracked. "Would you stop this?" he asked, looking away from her so she would not see his upset.

Brienne would not stand for him hiding his feelings, however, as she caught his face in her hands and pulled him in for another kiss. "I love you," she whispered, "and if it's bad, I will still love you."

"As I will still love you."

Just then, a nurse wearing a name badge labelled Jeyne Westerling pulled back the curtain and came into Brienne's little space. "Sorry, there is a bit of a queue on the test results at the moment. Mr Lannister-Tarth, why don't you go out and get some fresh air? It will do you no good to be cooped up in here worrying while we know nothing new."

Jaime shook his head, somewhat outraged by the suggestion. "No, I'll stay here with Brienne, thanks."

"Jaime," interjected Brienne gently, "Jeyne is right. We'll only hype each other up in here. Why don't you go get some coffee? Go for a walk? I can message you when I get the results through."

Although Brienne was smiling at him generously, Jaime went to object. However, Jeyne silenced him with a gentle tap on the shoulder. "Don't worry, she'll be well looked after in here. On the other hand, it might help you feel more relaxed about the whole process if you went to stretch your legs for a bit."

"As long as you don't mind, wench," Jaime said anxiously, looking to his wife for approval.

"Not at all," Brienne replied, "I'll text you when I have the results."

"Deal," he agreed, before saying goodbye with a kiss.

* * *

Once he left the packed ward, Jaime went down to the little coffee shop at the front of the hospital to pick up a rather terrible cappuccino, then went for a walk around the block. As it was February, the temperature was fairly chilly, so Jaime had to keep his pace up and drink his coffee quickly in order to stay warm.

_It's going to be something mild, _Jaime told himself over and over again, _like low blood pressure that makes her feel dizzy._

_Or maybe it is a slight infection, nothing that a swift round of antibiotics can't solve._

_Oh god, it's an ancient alien parasite that somehow embedded itself in my wench while we were in Harrenhal, and I'm going to return back to the ward to find it has burst out of her stomach or something._

_Or perhaps I am being ridiculous._

Once he finished his coffee, Jaime made his way back to the hospital and took a slow stroll through the memorial garden out front. While he was looking at a plaque on the central fountain to the memory of a famous brain surgeon by the name Argella Durrandon, Jaime received a call from Margaery, which he answered quickly.

"How's everything going?"

"Brienne's in for tests," he replied, "we're still waiting on the results though."

There was a slight pause before Margaery responded. "I can hear you worrying."

"Of course I am worrying," he almost snapped back, "Brienne fell and cut her head. After everything that has happened this year..."

"You two have proved that you can deal with anything thrown at you," announced Margaery passionately. "So whatever this turns out to be, you will both deal with it together, just like you always do."

Deep down, Jaime knew Margaery was speaking the truth.

About an hour into his wandering, Jaime's phone buzzed.

_Brienne: _My love, I have the test results back. Where are you? I'll come meet you xxx

_Jaime: _Finally! I'm by the fountain in the memorial garden. See you in a minute xxx

The five minutes between Brienne's message and her appearance were perhaps the worst part of the wait yet, as every worse case scenario shot through his head; she had a rare jungle virus, an aggressive parasite that was eating her from the inside out, or perhaps this was an early sign that she would one day just randomly spontaneously combust.

_Irrational thoughts, _he told himself. _Irrational thoughts._

It was only Brienne's appearance in the pretty little garden that finally soothed Jaime's nerves and, once he saw her, he could not stop himself from running towards her and pulling her into a close embrace, kissing her as if it were their last night on earth. When they broke apart, Jaime noticed Brienne was wearing a strange expression, one that was almost unreadable.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, biting his lip in order to hide the worst of his fears.

Gazing at him with those eviscerating eyes of hers, Brienne eventually managed to mumble, "yeah... it's just cold, and I want to go home."

Jaime wanted to go home too, but she had not given him a proper answer, so he pushed her to elaborate further. "Did all the tests come back clear?"

Her eyes went very wide at that question and she took some time to respond. "No... one of the tests came back positive."

In one simple word, Jaime's heart plummeted through the floor, beyond the centre of the earth, and all the way down to Australia. "What is it?" he asked, impassioned, pulling her closer to him. "Whatever it is, we can deal with it. Together, we've taken on onion smuggling rings, crazy cults, and a demented stalker; we can deal with this too, as long as you just talk to me."

"Really?" replied Brienne, something approaching a smile crossing her features.

"Of course," vowed Jaime. "It's you and me, wench, against the world, whatever it is." It took another moment for her to speak again, and Jaime reckoned it was because of the tears that were welling in her eyes. The sight only made him hold onto her tighter. "Brienne?"

Closing her eyes, Jaime watched as Brienne internally steeled herself, before opening them again quite suddenly. To his surprise, her eyes were not filled with terror or worry, but happiness and affection.

"I'm pregnant."

Jaime had thought that if he ever heard those words from Brienne, he would immediately start jumping around the room, but in that moment, he was just utterly stupefied. "What?"

"I know," she said, an iridescent smile beginning to bloom across her face. "I made them check again... and then once more for luck, but all three tests came back positive. They want me to come back for a scan next week."

Jaime just kept opening and closing his mouth like a very lost goldfish as Brienne started to laugh. "I... I... I..."

"You are going to be a dad!" she beamed, laughter tumbling out of her like rushing water in a stream, as easy and as beautiful as rays of sunshine on a spring day. "How do you feel?"

"I'm going to be a dad?" he repeated, dumbfounded. "We're going to be parents?"

Brienne grinned brilliantly at him, before taking his hand and sneaking it under her shirt to feel the flat plain of her belly. "Our baby is in there, Jaime," she laughed, as he stared down in wonderment. "_Our _baby. We did it."

In the end, all he could manage was to say her name again and again and again, like a broken doll programmed to repeat the same devotional word over and over. As he was dedicating himself to planting delicate kisses all over her, Jaime had not realised he was crying until he felt Brienne's hands on his cheeks, wiping away his tears. He had honestly never truly believed he would have the chance to raise a child, to try and build a new family with Brienne from the ruins of his broken one. The thought made him weep.

"We're going to be parents, wench," he managed to sob eventually, as she pulled him firmly into her arms. "Thank you so much for giving me this chance."

"This is a chance for both of us," she declared ardently, "for you to be the father that Tywin never was, and for me to try and work out what being a mother is, since I never had one."

Following that heartbreakingly joyful statement, Jaime kissed her furiously, parting her lips with his tongue and trying to pour all his love into her; his wonderful wench, his Chief, his partner, his wife, the mother of his child, his Brienne. Given how she was the centre of his universe, it seemed so strange that once he had managed to live a life without her. When Brienne broke the kiss, Jaime wasted no time in grasping her around the waist and spinning her in the air, which caused her to shriek, giggle, and wrap her arms around his neck as he swung her around like they were kids in a playground.

"Oh Brienne," he eventually managed to force out of his mouth. "I'm ecstatic. You have made me the happiest man in the world. Thank you for giving this to me."

"No, thank _you_," she responded, kissing him as he put her back down on the floor. "There is no one in the world I would wish to be the father of my children other than you, Jaime Lannister-Tarth, so _thank you _for being here with me, every step of the way."

"Always," he vowed. "I'm here for you and our baby... always, forever, for every day for the rest of my life. I promise."

"Right back at ya," she grinned, before pulling him in for yet another kiss.

They only stopped when Jaime began to stroke Brienne's cheek with his thumb. "How about you, me, and baby go home? It's bloody cold out here."

"Sounds amazing," Brienne smiled, her eyes glistening with tears. "On one condition."

"What's that?"

"I will not allow you to suggest any names for this child derived from any of the _Die Hard _films. I know you love them, but I do not want to be the mother of Hans Gruber Lannister-Tarth."

Somehow, Jaime managed to laugh through his happy tears.

"Whatever you say, wench. Whatever you say."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAANNNNNNNNDDDD there we go! I hope you all liked that story (even if Melara drove several of my readers insane) and would love to hear what you thought in a comment. I just love writing in this universe so much, that I am so glad I can take other people along for the ride.
> 
> Now... what's next? I've currently got two WIPs on the go, "Idiots in Love" and "Of Knights and Their Ladies", but after they are complete, I will be moving onto the next part of the Ice Cream Anthology which is... the long awaited Braime Shaun of the Dead AU. I hope you come back for that!
> 
> Then, after that, I am pleased to announce it is... Big Cop III. I feel I need to write a whole fic devoted to this Jaime, Brienne, their endless angst and their quest for parenthood. I really hope you are looking forward to that... I just have to work out who the murderer is...
> 
> As ever, I would love to hear prompts for the "Many Flavours of Ice Cream" story, which you can leave here or on my tumblr (I am SeeThemFlying) and, even if you don't have prompts, I would love to hear what you thought of this very silly story!
> 
> Until next time :)


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